


The Night Was All You Had

by lupus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Everyone really, Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, More like Stiles is a kept boy, Prince Derek, Prostitution KIND OF?, Royal Hale Family, Sexual Content, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lupus/pseuds/lupus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Derek Hale, Second Captain of his family's royal army, had suffered a long winter on the road at war with the usurper Deucalion. No one could blame him for wanting to celebrate the warmth of spring and the end of the war in sight with the company of one of the army's cooks. Derek just didn't expect to fall head over heels for a guy he'd paid to have sex with him.<br/>But as the war draws to a close and the Hales turn to an unlikely ally, the stakes are raised - testing the loyalty, trust, and relationship that Derek and Stiles have been working so hard to build.<br/>All is fair in love and war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***Not betaed so if you catch any errors please let me know!
> 
> Title taken from Laura Palmer by Bastille :)
> 
> ALSO I'm a giant nerd and made a map (courtesy of http://donjon.bin.sh/fantasy/world/) for this fic/AU, it should help you visualize things better :)  
> The map can be found [here.](http://oi60.tinypic.com/35n0zud.jpg)

            Derek stalked through the camp quickly, nodding at soldiers here and there as he passed. He was exhausted. More so mentally than physically, but still, it had been a long day. A long winter to be more accurate. The only thing more draining than actually fighting in a battle was strategizing for battle, especially when the Captain of the Royal Army was his Uncle Peter. As “Second Captain”, aka second-in-command aka  _not in charge_  according to Peter, Derek had a lot of input into what went on, but at the end of the day it was Peter who had the final say in what the Army did as a whole. Still, being second-in-command of such a large and powerful army was nothing to be ashamed of at barely twenty-four.

            He needed a distraction. Some comfort. Someone he could fuck his frustrations out on. He could go the easy road and get one of his men to bring him a woman from a brothel in a neighboring town, but Derek had someone else in mind. Someone he’d sent his Second, Boyd to find and make an offer to. Someone Derek had his eye on for some time now.

            Derek slowed as he approached his, rather large (Captain’s perks), tent. Boyd was standing in front of the flap indicating one of two things; either there was a warm body waiting for him on the other side, or the boy had rejected his offer and Boyd wanted to deliver the news himself.

            “So, what’s the verdict?” Derek asked, taking off his leather gloves. Winter had broken almost two weeks prior and the days had begun to warm, but it could still get quite cool at night.

            Boyd simply stepped aside with an answered, “see for yourself,” before motioning to the tent. “I think he has a few questions for you.” 

            Derek simply nodded his thanks, ducking into his temporary living space. The boy, named Stiles Derek had been told, was sitting across the tent in a chair, but jumped up as soon as he saw Derek enter. The only light in the room was from the candles placed here and there bathing everything in a soft, orange glow. The candlelight played across the features of Stiles’ face, highlighting his cheekbones and lips as well as doing wondrous things for his amber eyes. He knew his lingering gaze was making Stiles uncomfortable, he began to fidget and Derek could tell the silence was making him anxious, so Derek spoke.

            “I assume Boyd extended my offer to you and that’s why you’re here? Either to reject me in person or to accept, though Boyd did say you had some questions. Do you think my answers will change your decision?”

            “You do know I’m not a prostitute, right?” Is the first thing Stiles says to him, tone entirely dubious. Derek can’t help but snort at that, amused. He’d heard the guy was mouthy through the mutterings of his men but in a way he was very pleased that it was true.

            “I know who you are. Stiles Stilinski, a cook, you left the Queen’s City with me and my fourth of the army three and a half months ago. Do you know who I am?”

            “Everyone knows who you are,” Stiles muttered.

            Derek just simply raised his eyebrows, indicating he was waiting for an elaboration.

            Stiles sighed but continued; “you’re Derek Hale, Prince of the North, son of Talia and William Hale and second in line to the throne after your sister Laura. You’re also Second Captain of the Northern Royal Army, and have complete control over one fourth of it. You’re also kind of an asshole for making me state information we both already know.”

            Derek took a few steps towards Stiles, infinitely pleased when Stiles stood his ground.

            “That’s a rather interesting name to call your Prince,” Derek said continuing to make his way closer and closer to the boy. “There are some monarchs in this land who would have you punished for such language.” Derek tried to keep his tone playful, but something had hardened in Stile’s expression.

            “I’m from the Midlands, not the North,” He shot back, an edge of harshness to his tone. “You are not my Prince.”

            That made Derek pause. If Stiles was from the Midlands, that meant he was around for Deucalion’s usurping of the Szymański family. Deucalion had killed the royal family then unleashed him army on the unsuspecting town in the same night. Stiles would’ve been young, maybe twelve or thirteen, but still old enough to remember the horror. If he was living in the North, then he must be a refugee.

            Derek cleared his throat, attempting to change the subject, “I can accept that,” and that seemed to surprise Stiles. “However, whether I’m your Prince or not, I’d still like an answer to my offer. Even if that answer if no.”

            “I…I’m not a prostitute,” Stiles said again.

            “As you’ve said before. If I wanted a prostitute, I do like the other men and go to the next town over to find myself a soft pretty girl that would fuck me and then leave. Then probably go fuck some other man in the camp. Not that there’s anything wrong with any of that, but it’s not what I want.”

            “Then what do you want?”

            “To not be lonely every single night. To have someone to keep me company, whether that be intimate company or not,” Derek shrugged. “Mostly, I just want you.”

            “You want me?” Stiles’ tone was cautious, almost distrustful.

            “Of course,” Derek stated simply. “You’re beautiful, and I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time. Don’t look too into this, Stiles. It’s been a long few months and I haven’t had anyone in my bed for quite some time now. I’d like to change that and I’d like you to be the one I take to bed with me.”

            “And what if I don’t want to have sex with you? What if I only want sit here and talk your ear off all day?” Stiles asked, defiant.

            “I’d be happy with either. More than anything, I want someone to spend time with me for the next week or so and on the army’s eventual journey back to the capitol,” Derek admitted. “Peter thinks Deucalion’s forces will meet us on the field by the end of this week or next and if I’m going to die then I don’t want to spend my last moments alone. Whether or not this is a sexual arrangement is up to you.”

            “But if I say yes to a more… ‘intimate agreement’ then there will be sex?”

            Derek smirked, “I will not force myself upon you, whether you say yes or no, but if you are agreeable to it then yes, there will most definitely be sex.”

            “Yeah. Agreeable. Sex with someone that looks like you,” Stiles said gesturing vaguely at Derek. “I think I can definitely do that, yes.”

            Derek smiled. He wasn’t going to lie; he enjoyed this awkward, stilted conversation and knew he would’ve also enjoyed just being around Stiles. But more than anything he wanted to fuck him. To see what that daring mouth could do in different circumstances, if the moles that dotted his pretty face were spread along the rest of his body.

            “So your answer to my proposal is yes?” Derek knew he had Stiles, but he wanted to hear the words. He needed the boy’s full consent to this.

            “Yes, my answer to your offer is yes,” Stiles said a little breathlessly.

            “Good, I’m glad,” and Derek was, he really was. “There are some ground rules though, some boundaries we need to set up before we do anything further. I just want to set up some bases, if we think of anything that needs to be added we can do so later.

            “First, you will not have any romantic or sexual relations while we are under this arrangement,” Derek said seriously. “If you have sex with someone else while I’m paying to keep you, this will be terminated. The same goes for me. I have a thing for monogamy.”

            Stiles nodded, “I didn’t exactly have any suitors knocking each other over to have sex with me before this, so I highly doubt that will change any time soon.”

            Derek smiled at that, but continued, “Just because I am paying you for this doesn’t mean you cannot say no to me. If something I am doing, whether while having sex or not, makes you uncomfortable tell me immediately. If I want to have sex and you’re not in the mood, tell me. I may be paying you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want your full consent one hundred percent of the time. Do you understand?”

            “I understand.”

            “Lastly,” Derek said, “if at any point you change your mind about this or the nature of our relationship let me know and changes can be made accordingly. This should only be in place for a couple weeks, but if you want to back out between now and the time we get back to the Queen’s City, tell me. If it’s what you want, I’ll let you go. Does all of this sound good to you?”

            Stiles looked a little surprised by all of it but still replied, “Yeah, uh yes. That all sounds good to me.”

            They shared a smile, though Stiles’ was laced with hesitancy.

            “So, what now?” Stiles asked.

            “Well first,” Derek said, cupping Stiles’ cheeks, “I’d like to kiss you, if that’s okay?”   

            Stiles nodded, reaching cautiously for Derek’s waist and that wouldn’t do, not at all. Derek finally closed the space between them, confidently kissing Stiles’ mouth, though carefully at first. Once he felt Stiles’ hesitance start to ebb away, he let his kisses become hungrier, occasionally nipping and sucking at Stiles’ bottom lip. Stiles reacted beautifully, gripping the fabric of Derek’s shirt and hauling him as close as their bodies would allow. Derek moved his hands from the boy’s face, running them down his neck then to his chest, rubbing at Stiles’ nipples thorough his shirt and making him gasp. He filed that fun fact away for later use.

            Derek’s hands continued their journey south and made their way around Stiles’ back to grip the boy’s ass. The slight squeak Stiles made at that amused Derek and he couldn’t help but chuckle into Stiles’ mouth.

            “Hey don’t joke,” Stiles gasped as Derek pulled off his lips to mouth at his jawline and down his pale neck. “Eighteen-year-old virgin here, it’s a little hard to control my reactions.”

            Derek bit a little harder on Stiles’ neck at that revelation frozen for a second before he pulled away to look Stiles in the eye.

            “You’re a virgin?” Derek asked dubiously.

            “I told you I didn’t have any suitors before this,” Stiles said, blushing. “Ugh god, this is so embarrassing I shouldn’t have even said anything,” he mumbled, pushing away from Derek and going to sit on the bed, burying his face in his hands.

            Derek quickly followed, kneeling in front of Stiles and pulling his hands away from his face.

            “First of all, there’s nothing embarrassing about being a virgin at eighteen. Or about being a virgin at any age, really. And if you think the fact that you’ve never been with someone before is going to make me want to fuck you less, you’re wrong. In a way, it makes me want to fuck you even more.”

            That made Stiles blush even harder, but he looked infinitely less embarrassed.

            “God, I’m sorry for being dumb. You sure you don’t want someone else to do all this with? Someone who knows what they’re doing and will probably be much better than me in bed?”

            “What I said earlier still stands. I don’t want someone else, I want you. But do you still want to do this?” Derek inquired seriously.

            “Are you an idiot? Of course I still want to do this.”

* * *

            Twenty minutes later found Derek with Stiles spread across his bed, ass up and entire body flushed. The boy whined, pushing back against the three slicked fingers that Derek was stretching him with as Derek traced the moles and birthmarks on his back with his tongue. He’d started the night off by having Stiles blow him. With Derek’s guidance, he’d learned rather quickly, and his lips looked just as obscene as Derek had guessed they would stretched around his cock. Derek had to stop him much sooner than he would’ve liked, but it was either that or the night would’ve been over far earlier than either of them wanted it to be.

            Though his bed on the road was nowhere near as nice as his bed at home, covered with thick furs and warm blankets, it was a rather nice place to fuck someone on.

            “C’mon stop teasing,” Stiles moaned, hanging his head between his shoulders. Derek chuckled but pulled his fingers out gently before reaching for the vial of oil once more. He slicked up his cock then lined it up before slowly guiding himself in.      He started off gently, carefully pulling back before pushing back in, giving Stiles time to adjust to being fucked. Stiles lost his patience quickly though, urging Derek on with both his voice and body. Derek couldn’t help but oblige the boy. He gripped Stile’s narrow hips and began thrusting harder, pounding into his round, tight ass. God, Stiles was a sight below him; sweating and panting the flush from earlier becoming even more prominent. It had been so long since Derek had been with anyone and longer still since he’d enjoyed fucking a lover  _this_  much. He knew he wouldn’t last long this time, but neither would Stiles. Besides, they would have plenty more opportunities to do this over the next few weeks.

            For all the talking he’d done earlier, Stiles wasn’t quite so wordy when he had cock in his ass. He was reduced to mostly gasps and moans, though when he did speak he was all pushy demands like “more” and “fuck me harder” and it drove Derek insane. His pace became brutal, the slap of skin on skin harsh but rhythmic.

            “I’m close,  _please_ ,” Stiles choked out not much later, shifting to get a hand under himself to touch his otherwise neglected cock. Derek pulled the boy back and up into his lap, Stiles’ sweat sheened back flush to Derek’s chest. The position didn’t allow Derek to thrust as easily as before, but it buried him much deeper than the previous one had. It  _did_  allow him to suck hickies into Stiles’ neck and as he covered Stiles’ hand with his own, Stiles began to ride him as Derek thrusted from underneath.

            Stiles’ hand stuttered and then he was coming over both his and Derek’s hands, neck and backed arched so beautifully Derek lost to the urge to latch on to the side of his throat. Derek barely gave Stiles time to recuperate before he was letting the boy drop to the bed on his stomach. Derek draped his body over Stiles’ and guided himself back in before bracing his arms on either side of Stile’s head. He chased his own orgasm selfishly, fucking the probably over-sensitive boy into the mattress.

            “Yeah Derek, come on,” Stiles said, his voice hoarse but demanding once again. “Let go, come for me.” Derek grunted, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he tipped over the edge. He muffled his shout into Stiles’ shoulder as he spilled in the boy.

            He gave himself a moment to catch his breath before pulling out as carefully as possible. He moved off the bed to grab a cloth to clean them both, wiping at his hand and softening cock before kneeling next to Stiles on the bed. He couldn’t help but feel smug as he looked at how wrecked the boy was.  _He_  did that. He carefully wiped between Stiles’ cheeks, paying extra attention to where come was leaking out of his hole. Once he was satisfied he’d cleaned up enough, he tossed the cloth to the ground.

            “Well, that was quite the deflowering, I can’t wait to tell my grandkids that the Prince of the North took my virginity.”

            Derek couldn’t help but laugh lightly at that as he shifted to settle into bed. Stiles smiled at him, but it was a little restrained. Nervous almost. Derek didn’t like that. He hoped he hadn’t been too rough, done or said something to make the boy regret this or change his mind about the entire agreement. Derek had enjoyed himself quite a lot; he didn’t want to ruin what could possibly be some of the best sex of his life before it really started.

            Stiles rolled onto his back and sat up, “uh so this is the part where I should leave right?” Derek could tell he was trying to keep the tone light, but the edge of nervousness that Derek had sensed earlier was definitely there.

            “Stiles,” he said calmly, “what am I paying you for?”

            “Sex?” was Stiles’ unsure reply as he moved to seemingly get off the bed and leave. Which Derek was going to have nothing of. He yanked Stiles back and down so that the boy was facing Derek, lying on his side on the bed.

            “I’m paying you for your company, how many times do I need to reiterate that,” Derek sighed, though he said it as gently as possible. “And I want company while I sleep. Now stop overthinking this and turn over, little spoon.”

            Stiles huffed at that, though he complied, “you’ll see big guy, one day I’ll make sure  _you’re_  the little spoon.” Derek chuckled but hushed the boy, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and bringing him flush to Derek’s front.

            “Sleep, Stiles.”

* * *

            The first thing Peter did when Derek walked into the tent they’d been using as a meeting and planning area the next morning was raise his eyebrows at his nephew and say “someone got laid.”

            Derek rolled his eyes, used to his uncle’s brashness. He was just thankful it was currently only the two of them in the tent.

            “Who told you that?”

            “No one had to tell me,” Peter said in his standard know-it-all tone. “Between that hickey right above your collarbone and the fact that within seconds of walking in I could tell the usual stick wasn’t in your ass, you’re practically broadcasting it.”

            Derek fought against the blush that was threatening to take over his face, choosing to just grunt at Peter rather than give him an actual answer. The hickey was fresh from that very morning where Stiles had climbed into Derek’s lap after they ate breakfast, kissing and sucking at his mouth and skin. Then he’d sunk to his knees and blew Derek right then and there at the table, claiming he wanted to “practice his technique.” Derek just thought he had a thing for sucking dick. Not that he was complaining one bit.

            “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Peter put his hands up in mock defense. “It’s good you’re doing something for yourself. Just don’t get too distracted. We’re getting down to the wire. These next few weeks could make or break the war.”

            “I know, Peter,” Derek gritted out. “I am very aware. I wouldn’t let some boy come between my duties and me. You know that.”  

            “Good,” Peter said simply. “If our spies are correct we have a little over a week and a half before they attack the camp. They plan on wiping us out here and then continuing north to take Queen’s City. Part of me hopes that second part is false information because Deucalion can’t be stupid enough to think he’ll accomplish either of those things,” Peter smirked.

            “If we meet him on the field and win, he’ll have no choice but to retreat back to his stolen city to lick his wounds,” Peter continued. “If that’s the case then we have a good chance to take the city back.”

            “The Szymański family fortified that city to withstand almost any attack,” Derek countered. “Deucalion only got in through deceit and betrayal, he then killed the royal family and then let his army loose on the city. The place is not easily penetrable with our numbers and there’s no way we could weasel our way in and get Deuc’s trust like he did to the Szymańskis.”

            “If Deucalion loses out here and retreats to the Midlands Capitol, we have a plan.”

            “A plan? Why was I not informed of this before now?” Derek asked immediately tensing.

            “Because it involves an alliance with the Argents, something I know you do not favor,” Peter said carefully.

            “ _The Argents_ ,” Derek spat. “Are you out of your mind? They will agree to help us only to turn on us at the last second after we’ve helped them take care of Deucalion. Gerard and Katherine –”

            “Have been cut off and exiled for what they tried to do to our family,” Peter cut in. “Chris is not his father, and it’s been three years, Derek. You must let the grudge go eventually.”

            “They tried to kill us! To burn our castle down with all of us inside of it.”

            “But they didn’t. Chris stopped it before it happened, you cannot hate an entire family for the actions of two of it members. Since Deucalion started this war with us, the Southern Kingdom has been the majority of our outside monetary support. They want him off that throne and gone as much as we do. If they join our cause to fight, this war could be over in two month’s time, Derek. We need them.”

            Derek sighed, “fine. I don’t like it. But if that’s what you think it will take for us to win, then I will accept it. If they join us to fight, what’s the plan from there?”

            “Simple, we attack from the north, the Argents attack from the south. If Deucalion is too much of a coward to send his army out, we either starve the city out, which is something we don’t want to do, or find a way to break down those walls and get into the city.”

            “What happens to the city if we win? Who gets the throne then?”

            Peter grinned, “that’s one of the reasons I called this meeting. I have good news.”

* * *

             Derek took dinner with Stiles that night, grinning as the boy scarfed down everything that was on his plate.

            “You were one of the hands in making this dinner,” Derek said wryly. “I don’t know how to take your enthusiasm at food you made yourself.”

            Stiles shrugged, stuffing more of the potatoes into his mouth.

            “I eat what the rest of the camp eats, you higher-ups get all the good food. I haven’t had food like this since I left the city. Even then I highly doubt it was as nice as the food we make for you guys is.”

            That made Derek feel a bit guilty. He knew how it must look; a big, grand tent to himself, wine on the table, and all this food. While he didn’t really think twice about the luxuries he was given at home, on the road he tried to avoid them as much as possible. He didn’t want a huge rift between him and the men and women under his command. Just because he was a prince and a captain didn’t make him any better than them, they were all fighting for the same cause.

            He only had this grand tent because Peter had chosen it and basically insisted Derek had it. Most of the time he did eat whatever the rest of his men were eating, tonight he was really just indulging himself and Stiles. If Stiles came on the road with the army, it was probably because he or his family needed money and it was an easy job opening to take. Either that or he was a spy, something that hadn’t occurred to Derek until after the meeting with Peter and the others that morning. If he was from the Midlands, there was always that chance. Most people who spied for Deucalion had become spies for him in exchange for their lives. Either die or find out his enemies’ secrets, it would be a lie to say Derek didn’t understand the choice. Though he doubted someone who was as young as Stiles was at the time of the siege would be a spy, unless it was a recent development. Until he could confirm it, Derek would have to be careful with what he said around Stiles when it came to the army and its plans. What he’d already said was fine, it was common knowledge to the rest of the camp that the war was coming to a close. Derek just wished nothing more than for Stiles to  _not_  be a spy.

            “Did you cook a lot back in the city, or is it just a job-only thing for you?” Derek questioned, genuinely curious but also trying to probe more information out of Stiles.

            “I did cook at home, but I needed this job for the money more than anything. My uh,” Stiles cleared his throat and started poking at the meat on his plate. “I escaped north with my best friend, Scott, and his mother when Deucalion took over the Midlands. She took me in and I basically became her second son. As soon as I was old enough I started working so that I could help her support Scott and me. I owe her my life; the least I can do is make sure my presence in her household isn’t a burden.”

            “I sure she doesn’t feel that way about you. What happened to your parents?” Derek asked gently.

            Stiles gripped his fork and shook his head, his voice small when he answered, “dead. But, uh, let’s not get into that now. I have to go soon and finish up my cook-boy duties for the night, and I’d rather not do so while I’m all emotional and junk.” Stiles faked a smile before standing, hastily pushing his chair in.

            “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later,” he said quickly before ducking out of the tent, leaving Derek utterly confused. He’d obviously upset Stiles, it seemed any talk of the boy’s past beyond living in the city was a touchy subject. Derek couldn’t blame him for that; his entire life and his family had been ripped away from him in a single night with no warning. Derek couldn’t even fathom that pain. He’d make a point not to bring it up again. 

* * *

           Derek was lying in bed reading in the dim candlelight later that night when the flap to his tent opened and Stiles let himself in. Derek sat up immediately, putting the book he’d been reading on the small table next to his bed. Stiles crossed the room, plopping himself down on the bed with a sigh.

            “Ugh, I’m so tired,” He whined, burying his face in the blankets. It seemed his weird mood from earlier was gone. Derek wanted to apologize for probably overstepping, but he wasn’t quite sure if that would immediately ruin Stiles’ mood again. He decided to start off with something else instead.

            “Don’t go to sleep quite yet. I have good news, especially for you,” Derek said.

            “Why especially for me?” Stiles asked as he flopped onto his back, eyebrows raised suggestively.

            “Not like that,” Derek snorted, playfully pushing Stiles’ shoulder. “Though I can give you some  _good_ news in a little bit once I tell you the real news. It’s only a rumor and though I’m sure you’ll hear it soon enough, I want to tell you now. Peter’s just told me today that there’s intel that King Szymański is alive.” And  _that_  got Stiles’ attention.

            “Wha- The king? My king?” Stiles asked sitting up, shocked. “I thought he was killed in the siege. The entire family was killed in the siege. How is that  _possible?_ ”

            “We’re not quite sure,” Derek shrugged. “We just know that he escaped somehow that night and has been lying low ever since.”

            “Why is this news especially good for me, though?” Stiles asked carefully.

            “If all our plans go accordingly, Szymański will be put back on the throne and the Midlands will go back to the way they were before. You could go home. I heard you tell someone a little while ago that your father was the captain of the Szymański kingsguard. I have no doubt he remembers your father, perhaps he will offer you a place in his new guard. I’m not saying you have to go home, I’m just saying you could.”

             “Yeah, home,” Stiles said wistfully. Like the word, even the idea was a foreign concept. Derek supposed he hadn’t had a true home in six years. The chilly, rocky mountain terrain of the North was no home for a boy used to the temperate climate, lush forests, and rolling green hills of the Midlands. Stiles seemed to lose his focus for a little, so Derek let him. He idly brushed his fingers through Stiles’ hair as he waited for the boy to come back to him.

            “Wow,” Stiles said eventually. “Sorry for zoning out on you. That was just...a lot to process.”

            “You’re fine, no need to apologize,” Derek couldn’t help but smile softly. “I, uh. I’m sorry by the way, about earlier during dinner. I didn’t know that about your parents and I’m sorry. Sorry you lost them, and sorry I brought it up. I shouldn’t have –”

            Stiles silenced Derek with an easy kiss, grinning as he pulled away, looking fairly pleased that his method had worked.

            “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you more about my life in the Midlands eventually if you want, but not tonight. I don’t want to ruin the good mood you put me in with your  _news_. But if I do remember correctly, you said you had more ‘good news’ for me in a very suggestive way. And by ‘good news’ I hope you meant sex cause I am definitely up for a repeat performance. “

            Derek immediately rolled on top of Stiles, smirking down at him as he pinned the boy’s arms to the bed.

            “You sure you’re not too  _tired?_ ” He asked before sucking at the spot below Stiles’ ear that had made the boy squeak earlier that morning.

            Stiles gasped and arched up into him, “I am  _definitely_  not tired now. Not one bit.”

            Derek had both their clothes off in record time, and soon they were rubbing their naked bodies together as they kissed desperately. Derek rose to his knees and sat back on his heels, which made Stiles whine until Derek grabbed Stiles’ ass and hauled it up into his lap. The position aligned their cocks nicely so Derek poured a little bit of the oil, set on the bedside table in hopes that this would happen, on his hands before gripping them both and stroking them together.

            “We can get off like this,” Derek panted, wanting to give Stiles the choice. “Or I could fuck you again. It’s up to you.”

            “ _Definitely_  fuck me again, oh god.”

            Derek was more than happy to oblige.

            He fucked Stiles so he could see the boy’s face this time, in the same position they’d been in earlier. Derek loved watching Stiles’ face as he fingered him, reveled in the shallow rise and fall of the boy’s chest. Stiles threw his head back and moaned when Derek entered him, his plush lips forming a perfect “o.” Derek especially loved how blissed out Stiles looked when Derek fucked him. He gripped the boy’s thighs and wound them even more tightly around himself, enjoying how his balls slapped into the globes of Stiles’ ass with each thrust at this angle. Stiles soon began rolling into the thrusts, meeting Derek halfway, which only made Derek fuck him harder.

            Derek  _really_  liked the face Stiles made when he came, like the orgasm surprised him. He wasn’t sure if it was because it really did surprise Stiles or if that was just the boy’s come face. Either way, the sight of Stiles coming undone beneath him encouraged Derek to finish it, and he came himself not too long after.

            After a lazy attempt to clean them both up, Derek snuffed out the candle by the bed, bathing them both in darkness. Stiles snuggled up against him and as he rested his face on Derek’s chest he could feel rather than see the boy’s content smile.

            Derek knew this was the calm before the storm. In two weeks time, he could be dead. Hell, they could  _all_ be dead if everything went to complete shit. But it was hard to see that as an immediate, pressing future with a warm body so tightly would around his own. Listening to the steady sound of Stiles breathing, Derek let himself drift off to sleep, hoping that everything would go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REALLY dialogue heavy sorry bout that there was also sex so you can't be too annoyed about all that talkin'  
> Also I outlined for a lot more to be in this chapter but somewhere along the way it got way longer than I meant for it to so this will probably be a fairly long fic...oops


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read through this quickly before I posted it, but otherwise not beta-ed, please let me know if you see any grammatical errors that I missed!

           The week passed quickly. When he wasn’t out training or in meetings with his uncle and the other higher-ups, Derek spent his time with Stiles. They went on runs together, ate every meal together, sometimes read together. Though it had only been a handful of days, Derek was getting awfully used to having him around in his free time.

            Derek began to get even more frustrated the closer it got to the two-week mark. He hates sitting and waiting and planning, he’s far better at _doing._  

             It was barely two weeks after the first night with Stiles when Derek walked into the tent where they’d all been meeting and saw the look on Peter’s face.

            “When?” Derek asked, not needing to even question what his uncle’s expression was for.

            “Tomorrow,” was Peter’s somber reply.

            The rest of the men filed in soon after Derek, the atmosphere heavy with nerves and anticipation.  They all knew it was coming but it was one of those situations where it didn’t quite feel real until it actually happened. It still didn’t feel real in that moment. As they argued over and finalized their battle plans Derek began to feel the very real fear that they might not come out of this one. He knew his men were some of the best soldiers in the land but Deucalion’s troops did not fight with honor. They fought dirty and he feared what would happen to the dead, wounded, and those left behind if they lost.

            They had already worked out a plan and a strategy; it was just down to fleshing out the finer points of both. But Derek knew they could go over and over their plans all they wanted. What really mattered was what Deucalion was planning and what happened on the field.

            There was some bickering over small details at first but eventually everyone settled in and began to focus on the bigger picture. They had more men and more skill; if they could overcome Deuc’s habit of fighting dirty they could win this.

            From there it fell into Peter discussing with them where their soldiers would be in formation and how they expected the day to go down. While nothing ever truly went as expected, it was better to go in with confidence that you knew what you were getting yourself in to.

            They were to break the news as quietly and calmly as possible. The finer details of the battle plans hadn’t been passed on to the soldiers quite yet. For fear of spies and Deucalion knowing their every move, the commanders had been mostly quiet about the coming battle. They would meet with their soldiers the day of to share what they’d been planning for all these weeks. They also wanted to give the men and women under their command as much time as possible to mentally and physically prepare themselves. The entire camp knew it was coming; they’d just been waiting for the exact moment.

            As the meeting dragged on and the reality of the situation settled like a stone in Derek’s stomach he realized that while he’d been preparing himself for this exact fight for weeks, months even, he had never been less ready to go out on that field.

 

* * *

 

           “Have you been in a meeting this entire time?” Stiles asked as Derek trudged into his tent for lunch, collapsing into a chair. Stiles sat across from him at the table, already gulping down his soup. Derek only nodded in reply, rubbing his temples and paying no attention to his own bowl. He wasn’t quite sure if he had an appetite anymore, the anxiety of the morning making his stomach churn.

            “I can leave if you’re too stressed,” Stiles offered carefully. “I’m sure there’s plenty of dishes to do.”

            “No, no,” Derek sighed. Stiles leaving was the last thing he wanted, to be honest. “Stay, please. I’m sorry it’s just been a long morning. We meet Deucalion’s forces on the field tomorrow.”

            Derek heard Stiles’ slight intake of breath and braced himself for the inslaught of questions.

            “Nope, I’m not gonna ask about it,” Stiles muttered more to himself really than Derek. “This is a stress-free tent so no talk about any battles or any of what’s happening tomorrow, okay?”  He got up from his seat across Derek and moved behind him and out of sight. Derek was going to ask what he was doing until he felt Stiles’ large, strong hands kneading at his shoulders. _God_ , those fingers were magic.

            Derek groaned and let himself relax into Stiles’ ministrations.

            “There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Derek said seriously.

            “Talk away,” Stiles said, his hands still doing wonders for Derek’s shoulders.

            “Deucalion’s forces are relentless and brutal. I know you know this because of the horrors you probably saw when he raided your city,” Stiles hands paused for a second before continuing. Derek didn’t mean to bring back bad memories, but he wanted to make his point clear. “If we lose tomorrow, Deucalion will come for the camp. If that happens I want you to get the hell out as quickly as you can.”

            “Well what about you – ”

            “If Deucalion comes for this camp you can assure I will be dead,” Derek said seriously. At Stiles’ protests he continued. “There will be a bay mare with a white stripe on her face and four white socks where the cargo and non-battle horses are kept. She’s mine. Get the extra saddle and bridle from over there in the corner, take her and _get the hell out of here._ Ride north to the Capitol. I’m going to write to the head of the kitchens there. I’ll leave it here so remember to take it with you. You can work in the kitchens at the palace, they’ll pay you at least two to three times whatever you were paid at the jobs you had before in the city.”

            “Derek, stop talking like that, god,” Stiles said, exasperated. He stopped massaging Derek’s shoulders and went to sit back in his seat.

            “Stiles. I’m serious,” Derek said. “I need you to promise me that you’ll do that. That if it comes to the worst, you’ll keep yourself safe.”

            Stiles looked highly annoyed but muttered, “fine, I promise. But what if you win, what will I do then?”

            “The army will go back to the city for at least three weeks, though probably more; so the men can get some rest and also to spend time planning and securing reinforcements. If we win tomorrow, our next move is to siege the Midlands Capitol while Deucalion is weak. Get him off the throne and put the rightful king back on it. If we win, my offer for you to work in the palace kitchens still stands. Your cooking definitely qualifies you and a recommendation from the prince himself basically gets you the job.”

            “I think I’d actually love that, thanks Derek,” Stiles said sincerely.

            Derek smiled but changed the subject quickly, afraid that Stiles would want to question Derek on their arrangement, ask when it ended, and that wasn’t something Derek wanted to deal with or even think about at that moment.

            “I’m going to take this soup with me, I have to go meet with Peter again,” Derek said grabbing the bowl and standing. Stiles stood to follow.

            “Already? Derek you’ve barely been in here for ten minutes you need to rest.”

            Derek pulled Stiles in close and kissed his cheek, appreciating the younger man’s concern for him.

            “I need to plan,” Derek said simply, leaving a flustered Stiles in his wake as he left the tent, calling back, “I’ll be back tonight!” 

 

* * *

 

           The entire camp was quiet that night. Derek moved through the tents slowly, almost leisurely, so different than when he had done almost the exact same thing barely two weeks prior. There were murmurs coming from some tents, moans coming from others. One last night of comfort before they put their lives on the line, something Derek himself was headed to. A night of comfort. This could be his last night alive, his last night with Stiles. The thought twisted Derek’s stomach, more than anything he wanted to survive. Anything beyond that, with Stiles and with life in general, was up in the air. Derek just had to focus on making it through the next twenty-four hours.

            “I could hear you overthinking from here while you were probably halfway across the camp,” Stiles said as Derek flipped the tent’s door open to make his way in to the room.

            Stiles held out a small goblet almost immediately upon Derek’s approach.

            “Drink,” He said, simply. “Just a little bit of wine to make you relax. Not enough for someone of your size to feel anything, but enough to take the edge off.”

            “The edge off, huh?” Derek asked suggestively, though he took the cup, drinking the contents quickly. Stiles was right, he’d needed that.

            “The edge off your anxieties, dumbass,” Stiles huffed, though his eyeroll was fond. “However I definitely was expecting some insanely hot ‘please-don’t-die-tomorrow’ slash ‘this-could-be-my-last-night’ sex tonight so I hope that’s still on the table.”

            “Stiles, this is serious. I really could die tomorrow.”

            “ _God_ , now I need some wine,” Stiles groaned. “I’m aware of that. I do this thing where I deflect when I don’t want to talk or think about things that stress me out so I was deflecting just now. I was using sarcasm just now to cover up the fact that I’m actually, genuinely scared of you dying. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t want sex tonight because you’re probably the best lay I’m ever gonna have and if you are going to die, you better give me something to remember you by.”

            “You’re deflecting,” Derek tried to say flatly though it came out mostly amused. As he watched Stiles watch him, slightly nervous but mostly with a heated look in his eyes, Derek knew exactly what he wanted from what could be his last night with Stiles. He didn’t want something fast and desperate, something that would be over within minutes. They’d done that already.

            So Derek stripped off his shirt and the rest of his clothes, reveling in Stiles’ gasp at his sudden nudity. He sat on the side of his bed closest to the bedside table, resting his back against the head of his bed and stretching his legs out in front of him. Stiles quickly rid himself of his clothing as well before stumbling over next to Derek.

            “We’re just hopping right in tonight aren’t we?” Stiles sputtered, though at the way his cock was starting to harden, Derek knew he didn’t mind. Derek simply shrugged and guided Stiles so he was on top of Derek, straddling him. Stiles wound his arms around Derek’s neck as Derek began to place soft kisses up his neck and right under his jaw.

            “I was thinking,” Derek said, mouth just ghosting over Stiles’ lips. “Tonight, I want you to ride me.”

            Stiles gasped as he kissed Derek almost ferociously, grinding down into his lap. While the contact was more than welcome, it wasn’t the pace Derek wanted. He settled his hands on either side of Stiles’ hips, guiding the boy so that he was more so rocking into Derek’s lap at a gentle pace. He took control of their kisses too, bringing them down to something languid and almost lazy. He swept his tongue into Stiles’ mouth, fully intent on driving Stiles mad with lust.

            It seemed to work, after minutes of kissing and rocking against one another Stiles was so very hard against Derek’s belly, not that Derek was faring any better. He took his hands from Stiles’ hips to grab the vial of oil from the bedside table. Slicking up his fingers he whispered, “up on your knees” to Stiles, who obliged, hovering over Derek’s lap while Derek traced a single digit around his hole.

            They’d fucked the night before so Stiles didn’t really need too much prep, but that didn’t stop Derek from playing with Stiles’ ass for as long as possible. He quickly added a second finger, knowing one wasn’t ever quite enough for Stiles. He continued on his mission to drive Stiles into madness by finding the younger man’s prostate as soon as he could and relentlessly stroking it. Stiles whined above him, hands moving from Derek’s neck to grasp at his shoulders as he began fucking back onto Derek’s fingers and _holy shit_ if that wasn’t a sight to see.

            Derek realized if Stiles kept this up, Derek would only be able to tease him for so long before going crazy himself.

            “You good?” Derek asked as he slipped in a third finger, thankful that it went it rather easily. He needed to be in Stiles right now.

            “So good, Derek, just please,” Stiles gasped.

            Derek pulled his fingers out gently, using more oil to slick up his cock before his hands were back on Stiles’ hips, gently guiding the boy down onto his hard length. Stiles groaned and immediately starting moving, rolling his hips beautifully while he gripped Derek’s shoulders. Derek guided him with his hands, setting the pace slow and languorous. It seemed to frustrate Stiles, but Derek wanted to show him how _good_ slow could be sometimes.

            Derek tilted his head to capture Stiles’ lips in a firm kiss. Stiles gasped in to it and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck, bringing them chest-to-chest. They continued to kiss in time with the rolling of Stiles’ hips, Derek letting Stiles do all the work. He wasn’t quite sure for how long they went on like that before Stiles gasped, “Derek, please. You gotta fuck me, really fuck me. I wanna feel you tomorrow, wanna feel you for as long as possible, _please._ ”

            The words are what sent Derek over the edge, as he obliged his lover. Planting his feet on the bed and moving his hands to Stiles’ ass, he spread the boy’s cheeks while using the leverage from his legs to fuck up into him relentlessly. Stiles fell forward from the impact, forehead pressed against Derek’s as he panted into Derek’s mouth, no longer able to actually kiss the man anymore. From there it wasn’t long before Stiles was pulling a hand away from Derek’s neck to jack wildly at his cock. It wasn’t long before Stiles came between, crying out Derek’s name loudly as he threw his head back. Derek couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward and bite at the long, pale neck offered to him as he followed Stiles over the edge, his orgasm tearing through him almost violently.

            After they’d both come back down, their breathing hard and rugged, Stiles leaned forward to whisper words into Derek’s ear that made Derek grip the younger man tight, while thoughts of never leaving that bed raced through his mind.

            “You gotta live. You gotta live so you can come home and fuck me just like that, every single night.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Fighting came naturally to Derek. There were times he was certain he actually liked it. He shut his mind down and let his instincts and body take over. He preferred a longsword, he was large and powerful enough to do some serious damage with it but graceful and agile enough to use actual technique. He never really remembered much of the fights after they happened, sometimes specific details stood out more than others but mostly battles were one giant adrenaline-fueled blur to Derek.

            Unless something that stands out happens. Like one of Deucalion’s stealthiest and dirtiest fighters, Kali heading straight for Boyd. She was notorious for fighting with gauntlets that had knives jutting out from each knuckle and she didn’t kill cleanly. Derek remembers clearly each second from there. He leapt off his horse, a giant black gelding fierce yet calm enough to be a companion outside of battle, cutting down any and every enemy soldier in his way to get to his friend. She was advancing on Body now, and to his credit, the man stood his ground expression determined. Trying to catch her off guard, Derek edged up slowly behind her but she sensed him before he got his chance to strike a blow. Kali swirled around in surprise, snarling and lashing out with her dagger-clawed gauntlets, she was quick but not quite quick enough. Derek swiped her head clean off, though not before she got a good swipe in on his upper thigh.

            He remembers vaguely Boyd shouting at him to get the hell out of there and his leg checked immediately, but Derek wasn’t having any of it. Any other memories from the fight come in and out of focus from there. He remembers the blood soaking his trousers, remembers taking life after life, mind on autopilot with only a few thoughts racing through his mind; fight, survive, win.

            And win they did. That Derek remembered. The surrender from Deucalion’s captain, and the retreat of their troops. Peter’s almost maniac grin at the admission. The victorious cries from the men all around him. Things got blurry from there. Whether it was the blood lost, the exhaustion, or both he wasn’t really sure. He remembers Boyd and Peter helping him mount his horse and then being immediately taken to the nurses’ tent upon his arrival at camp. One stitched up the three gashes and then bound his leg tight and told him he’d be fine, he needed rest and there would definitely be scarring but it wouldn’t affect his leg’s function. That’s all that really mattered to Derek. They gave him something for the pain and that made things even blurrier.

            Stiles came in to the tent at some point his face panicked until he saw Derek wide awake and grinning at him from the small cot he was on. Stiles called him a “big fat idiot” but kneeled by his bedside and held his hand, occasionally brushing his lips over Derek’s fingers. The nurses let him go after a while, but told him to go back to his own tent and get some rest. He followed Stiles eagerly to his tent, their tent really, and even though Stiles was muttering things under his breath like "could've died", "no sense of self preservation", and the repeated "idiot" Derek was just so happy that Stiles was here with him.

            He felt light and happy and _good_ and Stiles was here and everything was going to be okay. He sat on the bed when they were in the tent and watched Stiles move around the room. Derek couldn’t help but smile at his antics as he poured water into a cup and cut a couple slices of bread.

            “Stop smiling at me, it’s creeping me out,” Stiles said as he turned and headed for Derek with the cup and bread. “Drink and eat, you need something in your stomach.”

            “I’m smiling at you cause you make me happy,” Derek said easily and he knew his expression was dopey but the painkillers were hitting him hard and everything felt awesome. The admission made Stiles blush as he handed the cup to Derek to drink. Derek did as instructed and drank the water handed to him, but he wasn’t done making Stiles’ cheeks red. He intended to make them _redder._

            “You’re just saying that cause you’re drugged out on the good stuff. It’ll pass soon,” Stiles said handing Derek the bread but refusing to meet his eyes. Derek shook his head adamantly, but took the bread.

            “No I’m saying it cause it’s true,” Derek tried to sound as sober and earnest as possible. “When I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve been in years. And I don’t want that to stop,” Derek reached out for Stiles’ hands and pulled him close, so that Stiles stood in the vee of his legs where he sat on the bed. “I don’t want to stop this when we get back to the city.”

            There was a pause and Derek’s stomach clenched, the fogginess from the drugs momentarily cleared. He’d said too much. He’d forgotten about the part where Stiles was paid to be with him. Why else would he be here? It hadn’t even been two weeks, why had he said that?

            “I don’t want to stop either,” Stiles whispered, one of his hands carding through the hairs at the back of Derek’s neck. And his voice was so achingly raw and sincere; Derek’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was more than just the money.

            “Good,” Derek said quietly, still smiling.

            Stiles cleared his throat, “you need to nap or something, sleep the painkillers and the battle off. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

            “Or you could nap with me,” Derek offered shifting and lying on his back on the bed. It took a moment for Stiles to follow suit, throwing a leg over Derek’s and resting his head on Derek’s chest, right over his heart.

            Stiles fiddled with a loose string on Derek’s shirt before quietly admitting, “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

            Derek couldn’t agree more.  

 

* * *

 

            Waking up from a fairly long nap, Derek felt like he had the hangover from hell. The painkillers had been really nice while he was on them but they weren’t so fun when they were wearing off.

                “I feel like shit,” he muttered to Stiles who was lying on his side facing Derek. Stiles laughed at that, his eyes glimmering in the candlelight. Derek took in the boy’s position on the bed.

                “Were you watching me sleep?” He asked, genuinely curious but Stiles only blushed with a muttered “shut up.” It wasn’t like Derek minded; it was kind of flattering really. And seeing as he’d thoroughly embarrassed himself earlier while under the influence of the painkillers, it’s not like Stiles could do or say anything much worse.

              “You look younger when you sleep,” Stiles said. “And you frown less. Anyways, you missed dinner, so we might have to reheat the soup over a fire or something.” Derek had assumed as much when he woke up and saw that it was dark out. There was quite the commotion coming from outside, Derek assumed the men and women of the army were celebrating their victory.  

                “They’re all drinking and doing god knows what else to commemorate the win,” Stiles said, as if he were reading Derek’s mind. “Though Peter ordered some of the higher ups to stay sober just in case Deucalion sent what was left of his men to sneak into the camp and slaughter us all in our sleep.” It wasn’t likely, Derek knew that, but it had happened before and it was smart of Peter to not take chances.     

            “Would you like to join them?” Derek asked.

            Stiles shrugged, “Only if you come with me.” His leg definitely still hurt but Derek didn’t want to miss out on an opportunity to celebrate with his soldiers and Stiles.

            Stiles insisted on supporting his side as they walked out to the bonfire, Derek’s arm over his shoulder and Stiles’ arm around his waist. It was probably pointless, Derek could walk fine he was just walking a bit slower than normal due to the bandaging and pain. He liked that Stiles wanted to take care of him.

            The men and women who knew him smirked at him as he and Stiles walked by, what was going on between them was no secret around the camp. They weren’t judgmental of the fact that he was fucking a kitchen boy, but they might be more so if they knew he was paying said kitchen boy to fuck him.

            As they got closer to the horde of people laughing and enjoying an evening free of stress for once, Boyd broke off from the gaggle of bodies. He hurried over to Derek and embraced him in an awkward side-hug due to the fact that Stiles was still plastered along his other side.

            “You saved my life today man,” Boyd said, breaking the hug but taking Derek by the shoulders. He was definitely a little buzzed, Boyd rarely showed this kind of affection. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.” He turned his attention to Stiles. “You treat ‘em good tonight, you hear? He’s a real hero,” Boyd gave Stiles a quick wink before gripping Derek’s shoulders and heading back to the crowd. Derek couldn’t help but grin after him.

            “I’m going to assume he’s not on Sober Crew tonight?”

            Overall, it was an enjoyable evening. They talked little of the deaths of their own that night. The bodies of the lost would be burned in the morning before they packed up and the day after was one reserved for mourning. It would be a quiet time tomorrow. But the night was for acknowledging their major win; though some drank in sorrow and others in victory.

            They ate reheated soup and Derek talked and laughed with his soldiers and watched as Stiles interacted with the others, telling stories about things like the shenanigans he and his friend Scott had gotten into back in the Capitol when they were younger. The addition of a little bit of wine only made him flail more when he talked. Derek chose to stay sober, still slightly hungover from the painkillers, and though Stiles wasn’t anywhere near drunk the couple cups he had made him all relaxed and flushed.

            It wasn’t long before Derek was ready to go back to his tent, feigning exhaustion, but really just wanted a loose-limbed Stiles all to himself. He wasn’t sure he would actually be able to fuck Stiles that night like he wanted to, due to the pain in his thigh. When he said this to Stiles once they were back in the tent, he just gave Derek a devious look before dropping to his knees and unlacing Derek’s pants, proceeding to blow him in the middle of the tent.

            Stiles pulled out all the stops, doing everything he knew Derek liked , including urging Derek to fuck into his mouth towards the end, so it wasn’t long before Derek was on the edge of release. Stiles gripped the globes of Derek’s ass and _sucked_ as Derek protested the fact that he was going to come, swallowing down everything and then pulling off with a self-satisfied grin.

            All it took was Derek yanking Stiles to his feet, simultaneously kissing him while pulling his already hard dick out of his pants and about a dozen stroked before Stiles was coming too, the smug look from just moments ago wiped clean from his face.

            They lay on the bed later, wrapped up in each other and grinning still when Derek decides to bring up the conversation they started earlier.

            “So, I lived.”

            “That you did,” Stiles replied, amused.

            “And tomorrow we pack up and head back to the Queen’s City.” Stiles only nods, looking a bit nervous. “I’m just letting you know that I meant what I said earlier. I don’t want to stop this when we get back to the city.”

            “I mean what I said, too,” Stiles said quietly. “But I don’t know how we’d continue without me raising suspicions with Melissa. She doesn’t keep me under lock and key, but she’d notice me being gone almost every night of the week.”

            “My offer from before still stands,” Derek says and at Stiles’ confused look he clarifies. “A job in the kitchens. I wasn’t kidding when I said your cooking was good enough to get you a job there, even without my personal recommendation. The cooks all live in the palace and have quarters there, so that would be your excuse for being away from home every night.”

            “Derek, you can’t be serious? You don’t know how much that extra money would mean to Melissa.”

            “I am completely serious. That plus what I’d continue to give you for the arrangement.”

            “Yeah,” Stiles said slowly. “Plus that.”

            “What do you say, does that sound good to you?”

            “That all sounds amazing to me.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Derek woke abruptly, his instincts screaming at him that something wasn’t right. Stiles was dead asleep on the bed beside him, but Derek felt another, malignant presence in the room. A shadow moved across the room and he threw the blankets off himself, up and ready to fight in an instance. There was only one candle left burning in the tent, across the room and on the table where he usually ate with Stiles. The figure moved into the light, bulkier than Derek and taller, too. When the intruder’s face came into view, Derek immediately recognized him as Ennis, one of Deucalion’s right hand men and probably his most brutal fighter, second only to Kali, who was dead now. Derek was immediately glad he’d put pants back on before he and Stiles went to bed.

            He’d been caught but was making no attempt to leave. He also wasn’t making a move towards Derek which meant one of two things; either he was just crazy, or he had a crazy-villian crackpot speech to give.

            “Do you know why I’m here?” Ennis growled quietly, gripping the dagger in his hand so hard his knuckles were going white.

            It seemed to be the former, then. This Derek could deal with, distract the man by letting him go on a rant while planning ways to take him down.

            “No, not really,” Derek said hoping to egg him on.

            “You killed someone out there today, someone very important to me.”

            “I killed a lot of people out there today. People who were probably important to a lot of other people. That’s what happens in war,” Derek said, attempting to keep his tone even. Stiles hadn’t woken yet which Derek was glad of, Stiles could possibly help but being awake would draw Ennis’ attention to him which was not something Derek wanted.

            “You know who I’m talking about. Kali. You chopped her head clear off, I watched. Do you know what it’s like to watch something like that?”

            “Can’t really say I do,” Derek answered evenly.

            “I should’ve killed you right then and there on the field,” Ennis continued as if Derek hadn’t spoken. “But then I thought to myself that simply killing you wasn’t enough. See I thought about what people do after they survive a battle and I realized that most people spend the time celebrating with someone they care about.”

            Derek refused to look at the bed where Stiles was still asleep, but it wasn’t as if Ennis didn’t already know.

            “It was lucky of me really, to find you here, happily in bed with someone it seems you care a great deal about if the whispers around this camp are true. All your men and women talking about how your little whore of a cook boy dragged you away from the others so you two could have your own little private party here.

            “It’s a shame you’re awake, I was just going to kill him in his sleep and then wake you up long enough so the last thing you knew in this world was how it felt to lose the one thing you hold dear. But now that you’re awake I’ve change my mind,” He took a step closer. “I’m going to make you watch as I kill this pretty little boy of yours so you know how I felt out there today. I’m going to kill him slowly, make sure he screams. I don’t care if the rest of the camp hears; they can storm in here and kill me if they wish. But you? I’m gonna leave you alive. So you know how it feels to have something so sweet only to have it taken from you.”  

            Derek couldn’t help himself, he lunged at Ennis, his words obviously hacving the desired affect on Derek. They fell to the floor and grappled for sometime but soon Ennis had him pinned, his knife raised and though Derek was fighting his knife-wielding arm off it wasn’t looking too good. His injury wasn’t helping his cause and Derek was panicking, trying to think of any and every way out of this when Ennis went rigid above him. He coughed up blood onto Derek’s face and Derek was too busy wincing and attempting to cover his eyes, so he felt more than saw Ennis’ body being rolled off him. When he looked up, Stiles was standing there, a bloodied knife in hand looking like a storybook savior in the light of the candle.

            “ _Jeeze_ , Derek that is not what I wanted to wake up to,” Stiles said reaching out a hand to help Derek up and though he sounded exasperated on the surface, Derek could hear the worry under it. “Seeing you being held down by some huge crazy dude and almost killed is not a pleasant thing to see. Why the _hell_ didn’t you wake me for help?”

            Derek didn’t even have an answer or an argument. Ennis was dead, if not nearly so, on the floor. It looked as if Stiles had stabbed him in the heart from behind; something Derek knew was no simple feat to do with a knife. Stiles must’ve been taught exactly where and how to stab him, something Derek would save for later, he was too thankful to think upon it right now.

            As he stood up, all he could think was that Stiles most definitely saved his life. They would have to fetch Peter to let him know what had transpired and some other men to dispose of the body, but that didn’t matter. He pulled Stiles into a bone-crushing hug and when he broke it, he only did so to kiss the younger man fiercely. Stiles kissed him back with equal fervor. Derek eventually pulled away, cradling Stiles’ face in his hands.

            “You saved my life. I…thank you Stiles, _thank you._ ”

            “It was nothing,” Stiles mumbled.

            “It was everything,” Derek said peppering Stiles’ face with kisses. “ _You saved my life._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like my writing's super corny sometimes but oh well I like corny


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaaaay this took a bit longer than that first update but it's still here in a semi-timely matter so whaddya do

           The journey back seemed far longer than it should, it was barely a three week ride but it felt like months. Derek attributes that to the fact that he longed for home and couldn’t wait to be in his own bed again. He couldn’t wait to have  _Stiles_  in his own bed at home. He also missed the palace’s food and his family, of course, but the first thing Derek wanted when he got home was to sleep for an entire day. War was exhausting, physically and mentally.

            The people of Queen’s City lined the streets upon the army’s arrival, cheering and throwing flowers at the soldiers as they made their way through the city. The progression stopped at the palace gates, Derek’s mother, Talia coming forward with his father William. She thanked the soldiers for their sacrifice and reminded them that the war was not quite over yet. He had to hand it to his mother; she did have a way with words.

            He’d parted with Stiles at the city wall, promising to talk to the head of the kitchens as soon as was possible. They'd agreed to keep the nature of their relationship vague. To everyone else, even in the army, Stiles was Derek's personal assistant. Though the rumors had flown and it was fairly well known that they were rather...intimate, the only person other than the two of them that knew exactly what Derek had been paying Stiles for was Boyd.

            Stiles had balked at the amount of money Derek paid him, saying that not only was it too much, but that Melissa would be suspicious of just how much Derek was paying him. Derek explained he'd thought of that ahead of time, and wrote Melissa a note, explaining that not only had Stiles save his life, but he’d helped him with the care of his wound as well as the daily physical therapy activities he had to do to help the muscle heal properly. Derek tried to remind Stiles that he was giving the money to Melissa, hoping it would ease his qualms about taking it. Stiles still seemed hesitant, so Derek playfully assured him he’d earned every penny. The comment only made Stiles look even more uncomfortable than he originally had.

            Derek was going to ask him if everything was alright, but before he could a tan boy with a dark mop of hair was running up to them shouting “Stiles!” excitedly. Stiles was almost immediately enveloped in a bear hug, laughing out a “Hey, Scott. I missed you.”

            So that was Scott, Stiles’ childhood friend, basically his brother. When the duo broke apart, Scott eyed him speculatively. Most people who lived in Queen’s City could recognize him and his sisters, not only were they active in the community, they had a very distinct physical appearance.

            “I’ll uh,” Derek cleared his throat. “I’ll get back to you about working in the palace kitchens as soon as possible.” Stiles only nodded but didn’t say anything else so Derek turned to leave.

            “Dude was that the Prince?” He heard Scott whisper as he walked away.

            “C’mon let’s go home,” was all Stiles grunted before he was dragging his friend away. 

            Derek wasn’t quite sure what was going on with Stiles, but he’d been a little weird for the past three days. The majority of the trek home Stiles had been his usual self, snarky and sarcastic but still easily tactile and affectionate. Their sex life had suffered at first, due to Derek’s injury, he really wasn’t supposed to put too much strain on it, and he tired easily as he was recovering. They found ways around it, but either way Stiles didn’t seem to mind. By that point, Derek was completely comfortable in Stiles’ presence – something that wasn’t a common thing for Derek when it came to people outside his family. But in the final week, it seemed the closer they’d gotten to the city in those last few days, the weirder Stiles got. Derek wasn’t sure if he was regretting what they’d done or decided he didn’t want this anymore, but any time Derek tried to bring it up Stiles brushed it off, claiming everything was fine.

            Derek could see right through Stiles’ bullshit though. As soon as he got the chance, when Stiles came around to talk to the head of the kitchens, Derek would get whatever was bothering Stiles out into the open.

 

* * *

 

           All Derek wanted once he was within the palace walls was to soak in a hot bath for an hour and then sleep for an entire day. It seemed his family had other plans. Of course he wanted to see them after months of being gone, but being bombarded as soon as he was in the grand foyer was a little much. His mother hugged him, and Laura smacked him upside the head, scolding him for worrying them all by getting hurt before she joined her mother in hugging Derek.  Cora just muttered a “Nice to have you back,” with a pat to Derek’s shoulder before begging off to whatever she’d been doing earlier. And seriously, god bless Cora, Derek hated being fawned over – something the other two women of his family were currently insisting on doing. They’d long stopped hugging him and moved on to Laura questioning him about every detail from the battlefront and his mother badgering him about sleeping and eating more. His father and Laura’s husband Isaac were watching from a few feet away, both eying the current and future queen with quiet amusement.  

            “Alright, alright,” Derek finally said. “If you don’t mind, it’s been quite some time since I’ve had a real, hot bath and even longer since I’ve slept in my own bed. I’ll see you all tomorrow bright and early for breakfast, but do you mind if I go relax for the rest of today?”

            His mother touched his cheek “of course dear. We’ve already had someone draw you a bath.”

            Derek broke away from his mother and sister to greet his father and brother-in-law.

            “I’m glad you’re home safe, son” His father said hugging him tightly. Isaac offered him a nod and a clap on the shoulder as Derek headed out of the foyer and toward the stairwell that lead to his chambers. His main room was decorated with plush couches and accented with two large bookshelves on either side of a grand fireplace. The double doors to his bedroom were to the left and an ensuite bathing room was in the back right corner. Someone had left a tray of food on the table that was located in the center of the couches. Derek was grateful; he hadn’t eaten a full meal since the night before. He grabbed the tray, heading towards his ensuite bathing room, infinitely thankful that his bath was already drawn.

                  He soaked in the tub, occasionally grabbing a bit of fruit or cheese of the tray. Stiles would probably laugh at him and call him spoiled and indulgent, but after being on the road at war for months on end, Derek thought he deserved a little indulgence. About twenty minutes in, there was a knock on the bathroom door and before he could even speak, Laura was bursting in.

            “ _Jeez_ , Laur,” Derek whined. “First of all, privacy. Second of all I just got rid of you no less than thirty minutes ago. What is so urgent that you had to come up here and bother me when I’m supposed to be relaxing”   

            Laura ignored him and sat on the edge of the tub, taking a grape off the tray and popping it into her mouth. “Peter told me something interesting.”

            “Peter says a lot of interesting shit,” Derek snorted.

            “He told me that you met someone out on the road. One of the cooks.”

            Derek blanched, “Look, before you say anything or judge me I –”  
            “I’m happy for you,” Laura interrupted.

            “What?”

            “I’m. Happy. For. You,” Laura said smirking, clearly enjoying this. “Peter said the two of you spent every moment you had free together. You haven’t been like that about anyone in a long time. Not since…”

            “Since I was convinced that Kate Argent was my soulmate before she and her father tried to burn our entire castle to the ground?”

            “Derek,” Laura sighed. “It’s been four, almost five years. You know none of us blame you for that. How many times do we have to tell you that?”

            “That’s because you’re the only one who knows the full story. They think it was all Gerard, but you and I know better than anyone else Kate had a bigger hand in it than it seems. They think she was just doing her father’s bidding, but I told her things I shouldn’t have and almost got us all killed. So it doesn’t matter whether or not you blame me,” he muttered. “I still blame myself.”

            “Of course you do. Fine, continue your man-angst about something that doesn’t even matter anymore,” Laura rolled her eyes and made a frustrated noise, “The Argents executed Gerard and are finally estranging Kate from the family, so she will be away on some island, isolated for the rest of her miserable life. Anyways, I don’t want to talk about those scumbags, I want to know about this boy. Are you going to see him again?”

            “I hope so,” Derek said. “He was a little off when we parted ways earlier, but I’m trying to get him a job here in our kitchens.”

            “Hmmmm, keep your friends close and the people you’re fucking closer. Nice tactic.”

            “God Laura, you are so inappropriate.” A sudden, terrible thought struck Derek. “What if he doesn’t want to see me anymore?”

            “I highly doubt he won’t want to see you again. Maybe he’s just freaked out now that you’re back in the city. The reality of you being the prince, not just some guy in the army, could be getting to him. Talk to him the next time you see him Derek, see what’s going on.”

            His sister was right, he’d meant to ask Stiles outright earlier but Scott had interrupted and he’d since lost the courage to prod at Stiles, too afraid to rock the boat. Not that he’d had the chance, but he still wasn’t quite sure if he’d even be able to pluck up that courage again.

            After a little more badgering, some of the questions Laura asked him Derek refused to answer (there were things his sister did not need to know), Laura left him to relax. Derek stayed in the tub until the water turned lukewarm, making sure to wash away what felt like endless grime off his body.

            He toweled off and changed into his softest, comfiest sleepclothes before falling into bed, groaning at the feeling of being in his own bed after so many months on the road. It was heavenly to say the least, but as Derek drifted off to sleep he realized that it was the first night he’d slept without Stiles since they’d gotten together. He couldn’t help but be nostalgic for the lumpy bed and their tent in the middle of the campground, a nice bed wasn’t quite the same any more.

  

* * *

 

            It seemed there was no rest for the wicked. Or at least no rest for those trying to win a war. The next morning at breakfast all anyone could talk about was what was to come within the next few months. His mother and father wanted Deucalion out of the Midlands and the rightful king on the throne by the end of the summer. Derek just wasn’t quite sure he agreed with their methods of doing so.

            “Excuse me, repeat that,  _who_ is coming?” Derek near-growled at Peter, who only sighed and rolled his eyes like Derek was a petulant child whining about something inconsequential.

            “We’ve already talked about this, we are joining forces with the Argents in order to rid the land of Deucalion. We both know it’s only time before he sets his sights on either the north or the south – or both.”

“That and he will not get away with raiding the Midlands, killing the Queen and Prince, and overthrowing King Szymański,” William added.

            “They’re also coming because your father and I have agreed to serve as a liaison between Christopher and Katherine as Chris is banishing her and stripping her of her titles. He’s sending her out to the long-term prison on Silver Island for her part in Gerard’s plans, as well as planning and carrying out the murders of a number of Chris’ council members over the years,” Talia added. “The Argents found her guilty, but their law states a neutral party must as well. So our council will hear both sides and either dictate her innocent or guilty.”

            “What if they find her innocent?” Derek questioned, sickened at the thought of Kate being under the same roof as him, even if only for a few days. “What if she tries to burn the whole place down again?”

            “They won’t,” Peter answered simply. “The council knows of her misdeeds and will judge her fairly. There will be a guilty verdict, you have my word. As for her, she will be guarded by Argent men or women at all times, every move she makes will be monitored.”

            “Still, we’re not exactly neutral though are we? Shouldn’t this trial be happening on actual neutral ground, like it’s supposed to? Seeing as she tried to help her grandfather burn us all in our beds, I don’t think we should really be making these decisions.”

            “Normally the Szymańskis would settle things like this, but…” Peter shrugged. “So we’re about as neutral as it gets. Besides it won’t be  _us_  making the decision, it’ll be the council.”

            “When’s the trial?” Cora asked, joining in to the conversation.

            “About two weeks,” William answered. “The Argents are arriving by boat so they should be here in a little over a week’s time. The council will have a few days to look over Chris’s allegations and then the rest will play out.”

            “Why didn’t they do all this for Gerard before his execution?” Cora asked, and damn, that was a really good point.

            “They have different rules when it comes to execution, that and they’d already gone through something similar to this when they voted to get Gerard off the throne,” Talia said. “That was nearly fifteen years ago, he’d had so many transgressions since then the Argents didn’t even bother with a trial.”

            “So they killed him for attempting, but failing, to burn down a palace that didn’t even belong to the Argents?”

            “That and they found out he’d aided Deucalion in his siege and had been feeding him Argent secrets as well so I think they were fairly justified. How other kingdoms and families deal with their politics is none of our business,” Talia said, her voice making it clear that it was the end of said discussion.

            The subject quickly changed to lighter matters and Derek was grateful but he couldn’t quite squash the feeling of dread at having to see Kate again. He could try to delude himself into thinking they wouldn’t even cross paths, but he knew that wasn’t true. He excused himself after a few more minutes, Laura throwing him a sympathetic look from the other end of the table.

            As Derek left the room and entered into the hallway he heard the familiar voice of Remington – a plump little man fondly known as “Remy” to everyone in the castle – the head of the kitchens echoing off the walls, clearly talking to someone. As he rounded the corner into one of the smaller atriums that connected multiple hallways, he spotted Remy walking quickly beside none other than Stiles.

            “Oh look!” The man said excitedly. “The Prince himself, how are you today Your Highness?”

            Remy, as always, looked more than happy to see Derek. Stiles looked surprised to see Derek. Not in a “pleasantly surprised” way but more of a “oh shit I forgot you lived here type of way.”

            “I’m doing well,” Derek said, trying to keep his voice light. “I didn’t expect to see Stiles here so soon, you work quickly my friend.”

            “I sent a page boy to him yesterday evening, asking if he could meet first thing this morning. I’ve been giving him the grand tour,” Remy said a smile on his face. “Perfect timing too, what with the news of our guests coming next week, and we were already fairly short handed. Thank you for the recommendation. It saved me the trouble of having to go out and find someone myself.”

            “It’s no problem,” Derek said, returning the smile. “What else around here do you have left to show my friend Stiles?”

            “We’re actually all done!” Remy replied cheerfully. “I was actually just showing young Mr. Stilinski out, he’ll be back at the end of the week to start up.”

            “I can walk him out if you want,” Derek offered.

            “You don’t have –” Stiles started.

            “That would be great, lots to do in the kitchens as always,” Remy grinned. “I’ll see you later, Stiles. And Prince Derek, it’s always a pleasure to see you.” The man bowed quickly before walking briskly back to the direction of the kitchens.

           “Is he always that eerily cheerful?” Stiles asked quietly once Remy was out of sight.

           Derek couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at that. “Nearly always. Unless you insult his cooking, then he’s scary.”

           Stiles laughed softly, but still sounded off when he said, “you really didn’t have to offer to walk me out.”

           “I’ve got nothing else to do, plus I missed you,” Derek said, taking the chance and running his hands up and down Stiles’ arms.

           Stiles blushed, turning his face away. “I saw you yesterday.”

           “Still missed you,” Derek shrugged.  “I also wanted to make sure everything was okay,” he finished carefully.

           “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

           “You’ve been acting weird the past few days, even more so yesterday and still today,” Derek said. “I…if something’s bothering you, can we talk about it?”

           Stiles looked a little surprised by that. “ _You_ want to talk things out?”

           “Yeah, yeah it’s something I’m working on.”

           “Okay. Yeah, let’s talk. Just not here, okay?” Stiles asked looking around the empty hallway. “I’d rather talk in private.”

           Derek nodded his understanding, “follow me.”

           The walk to his rooms was quiet, a kind of tense, uncomfortable silence he wasn’t used to with Stiles. He wasn’t sure what had caused this weird rift between them, but Derek was determined to close it.

 

* * *

 

           “Nice ‘room’, jeeze. I’m pretty sure just this part of it is bigger than Melissa’s _house,_ ” is the first thing Stiles says when they enter Derek’s chambers. He appreciates the glimpse of the old Stiles, but that isn’t what they’re here for.

           “Stiles,” Derek started, somewhat impatiently. “You can marvel at my rooms later. I want to talk. What’s been up with you lately? Is it something I did or said?”

           “No, not exactly.”

           “If we’re going to fix this, I need you to be more specific. ‘Not exactly’ doesn’t mean no.”

            “I just…what do you _want_ from me, Derek?” Stiles asked, voice sounding on the verge of breaking.

            “I want to go back to how we were out there, outside these walls,” Derek said. “I think it’s possible, but we need to sort out whatever’s bothering you. You need to talk to me about this.”

            “Were you still planning on paying me for all this?” Stiles’ tone was blunt, but this time his voice was also distant. Derek’s stomach dropped, that’s what this all was about?

            “If that’s what you want,” Derek said as evenly as possible, though the thought that Stiles was only in this for the money made him feel cold.

            Stiles’ face closed off like it had the other day at when Derek paid him.

            “What’s wrong? I don’t understand why you’re suddenly acting this way. Is it because of who I am? Is it because the money’s not good enough? Do you want more or something?”

            “I don’t want _any_ of it,” Stiles spat out, and god did that hurt. Stiles must’ve noticed the look on Derek’s face because he rubbed his hands over his eyes as he sighed, frustrated. “I didn’t mean I don’t want you, Derek. I thought it was blaringly obvious how _much_ I want you. Which is why I can’t do this anymore.”

            “I don’t…” Derek shook his head. “I don’t understand. If you want me, why can’t we still do this? Just explain to me where you’re coming from.”

            Stiles took a breath and fixed Derek with a vulnerable stare. “Because I like you Derek. As a friend, as a person, _romantically._ And I can’t…I know this was just supposed to be sex and company but apparently I can’t have sex without developing feelings. That’s why I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be your whore and feel this way about you at the same time.”

            Derek couldn’t believe his ears, he was having a hard time stamping down on the light, joyful emotion that was ballooning up in his chest. Half of Derek wanted to shake Stiles for thinking of and _calling_ himself a whore. The other half wished there was a way to siphon all the feelings he had for Stiles into the idiot because he wasn’t good with words, but he wanted Stiles to know exactly how he felt.

            “That’s what this is about?” Derek asked incredulously. “You being distant and weird and pulling away from me is because you have feelings for me?”

            Stiles set his jaw but nodded, crossing his arms.

            “You know I thought _you_ were the observant one,” Derek said shaking his head. “Maybe I wasn’t being as obvious as I thought I was because it’s really clear that whatever you feel for me, I definitely feel for you.”

            “I – you – _what_?” Stiles sputtered and Laura’s advice was prodding at Derek relentlessly; use _your words._

            “I have feelings for you too,” Derek said slowly and clearly, trying and failing to fight the grin off his face. “So many feelings that kind of make me uncomfortable until I remember they’re for _you._ I’m not used to this kind of thing and I’ve been told I’m shit with words so I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear sooner. I didn’t want to freak you out, especially if you didn’t feel the same.”

            Stiles seemed to be in a very rare state of not being able to reply, so Derek continued.

            “You think I’d willingly spend so much time with someone I didn’t have feelings for? Have you ever seen me talk as much as I do with anyone else except you? Yes, we both know I can talk a lot when I _want_ to but there’s very few people I’m like that with. I’m a little offended you thought I was _that_ lonely that I’d be like that with just anyone,” Derek finished, jokingly.

            “I noticed, but I didn’t actually think…” Stiles shook his head. “I didn’t want to hope and end up feeling like an idiot. Besides, how come _you_ didn’t pick up on the fact that what we’re feeling is completely mutual?”

            “People can surprise you with how convincing they can be, even if they don’t care about you. Especially when there’s money or politics involved.”

            Stiles’ face softened, and he looked like he wanted to prod, but didn’t.

            “So where do we go from here?” is what Stiles asked instead.

            “I was hoping to my bedroom so I could rim you until you cry.”

            Stiles wheezed a little at that. Derek had tried it a little bit before while fingering Stiles open, but he’d never done it as the main event. He really wanted to though; Stiles _really_ liked it and the noises and reactions he could wring out of the boy with just his tongue –

            “I meant,” Stiles cut through his train of thought, though he sounded a lot more flustered than he had before Derek had brought it up. “Us. Relationship-wise.”

            “We’re together. Exclusively. Does that sound good to you?” Derek asked and Stiles nodded his assent.

            “I know they prefer you guys to stay on site in the servants quarters, so since you’ll basically be living in the palace you can stay here, with me, any time you want. I mean really you could sleep here every night I wouldn’t mind,” Derek said sheepishly.

            Stiles closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Derek’s waist. “I’m gonna be here so much, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

            Derek pecked his lips lightly. “That sounds like the opposite of a problem.”

            Stiles laughed lightly and pulled Derek in for another kiss, tender and gentle but still little hesitant. That wouldn’t do.

            “I was serious about what I said earlier,” Derek said, then kissed Stiles with confidence, quickly making it dirty. When he pulled away he said, “if you’re up for it, I really would like to eat you out.” Stiles groaned pawing at Derek’s clothes with a “bed, bed, bed, please, _bed._ ” Derek grinned, pulling him towards his bedroom doors, fully planning on making use of the soundproof stone walls between them and everyone else in the world.

            Stiles didn’t quite cry, but it was a near thing. 

 

* * *

 

           The announcement of red and silver sails on the edge of the harbor made Derek’s stomach churn. They were unmistakably the Argent colors, much more boisterous and flashy than the Hales’ blue and gray. He’d been informed the day before that the Argents were set to arrive either the next morning or afternoon and that after their guests were given time to settle they would eat dinner with the Hales, a peace offering coming from both sides. 

           Derek would’ve been fine with the dinner – until he learned that Kate would be joining them. It had been a heated argument between him and Laura, seeing as she was the only one who knew the truth, but in the end she convinced him that not showing up to the dinner would be worse than sitting through the dinner itself. He wasn’t going to give Kate the satisfaction of driving him into hiding in his own home. She would be locked up the rest of the week anyways, only allowed out to the meetings with Chris mediated by his parents and then again for the small trial consisting of the King and Queen from each kingdom and the Hale councilmembers. He could get through one night.

           Stiles had informed him that Remy was not only having him cook for that night, but he was also serving with some other select members of the kitchen staff. It was comforting, knowing that he’d at least have Stiles close during the duration of the night. When Gerard and Kate had been shipped off in handcuffs after the last time they’d stayed at the palace (they’d come to talk peace and tried to kill everyone in the building. Ironic) Derek genuinely thought it was the last time he’d have to see either of them.   

           Of course, Stiles being Stiles, he sensed Derek’s restlessness immediately as they both dressed for the dinner. Remy had stopped Stiles from cooking; sending him away with a uniform the servers wore only on special occasions. It consisted of dark gray breeches and matching blazer along with a deep blue dress shirt, all of which fit Stiles very nicely. The deep blue looked beautiful against Stiles’ pale skin.

           Stiles basically lived in Derek’s room when he wasn’t goofing around with Scott out at the stables (his friend had secured a job tending to the horses while the army was away) or working. Derek really did not mind. Things had gone back to the way they were out on the road, and Derek hadn’t slept alone since Stiles had started his job in the kitchens, something he definitely couldn’t complain about.

           However, Stiles had gotten really good about picking up on Derek’s moods in the weeks prior to coming home so it was unavoidable that he’d sense the anxiety coming off Derek in waves.

           “You wanna tell me what’s been bothering you since yesterday?” Stiles asked as he double checked his outfit in Derek’s full length mirror. Derek just grunted, trying to figure out which articles of his clothing would best put off a “leave me the fuck alone” vibe.

           “I thought talking things out was ‘something you’re working on,’” Stiles said with an eyebrow raise.

           “Ugh, fine. It’s just, Kate Argent tried to kill all of us a couple years ago and they’re just now dealing with it?” Derek said. “Beyond that, I don’t like the idea of her being under the same roof as all of us again

           “There’s something else. Something beyond that that’s bothering you, specifically about her.”

           Stiles was really too perceptive for his own good.

           “We uh,” Derek cleared his throat. “She stayed for a few weeks with her father and we were…involved.”

           “So now things will be awkward?”

           “No, it’s not even that,” Derek shook his head. “Seeing her reminds me that I knew this woman for a total of three weeks and within those weeks she had me spilling secrets and completely hell-bent on marrying her. I was so stupid, they came for talk of an alliance due to all the Deucalion insanity and I thought to myself, what would be more perfect than an alliance through a marriage? I was too stupid not to see that she didn’t give two shits about me. I was too stupid to realize that I didn’t actually love her. Just who I thought she was. She lied to me and manipulated me and I didn’t even realize it.”

            “Derek,” Stiles started carefully. “Is this the woman you mentioned to me a couple times out on the road when we talked?”

            Derek nodded. He hadn’t really given Stiles any of the details or told him who it was. Only that he’d met someone when he was nineteen and that she’d used him and he hadn’t been with anyone for any extended period of time since.

            “God, I’m so sorry you have to see her again,” Stiles said pulling Derek’s back to his chest and hugging him from behind. He kissed the side of Derek’s jaw and then rested his chin on his shoulder. Derek melted into the embrace. “You were young, Derek. And wasn’t she like thirty? She lied to you and she’s the one that manipulated you. You were basically a kid. She’s at fault, not you.” And god hearing someone other than Laura, hearing Stiles say that, made him feel so much lighter. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever completely absolve himself of that guilt, but Stiles reacting in anger towards Kate and not telling Derek he was stupid for trusting her, which is how Derek felt, meant a lot to him.

            “Thank you Stiles,” Derek said quietly, squeezing one of the arms around his stomach. Stiles gave one last peck to the nape of Derek’s neck before pulling away.

            “I’m serious Derek, just say the word and I’ll spit in her soup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ned stark voice* _the argents are coming_
> 
> hello angst, I knew you would show up eventually, our boys had their first real fight, look at them talking like emotionally competent adults!  
> also ugh so much politics in this chapter  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG  
> but it's here now so you can't hate me forever, right?  
> ALSO there's some bottom derek in this chapter so if that's not your thing (know that you are missing out) just skip past it.

            Dinner was dreadful, to say the least. Chris was alright; though he had a certain intensity to him, his blue eyes were kind. His daughter Allison seemed bright and fierce, yet somehow gentle. If she was the south’s future queen, they would be in good hands. Victoria was slightly terrifying. Derek wasn’t sure if it was her physical appearance or her overall demeanor – she had the same intensity and ferocity present in her husband and daughter, but none of the softened edges. Derek made a mental note not to cross her.

            Kate was of course – herself. She reminded of the pumas that roamed the north’s mountain ranges. Beautiful and graceful, yes, but also deadly and powerful beyond belief.  She sat across the table from him and diagonal and though it was better than her sitting directly beside him, it still wasn’t far away enough for Derek’s liking. The table was small – set for ten in the family’s private dining room where the royal family took most all their meals.

Talia was at one head of the table with his father and Cora closest to her, Chris at the other. Kate and Victoria sat closest to Chris. Allison was in between Derek and her mother and though the conversation was bit awkward and stilted at first they eventually fell into a lighthearted argument over which was the superior weapon; a bow and arrow or a longsword. Cora sat next to him looking bored and Laura across – the lines of her shoulders hard as she shot an occasional glare at Kate. Isaac sat in between Laura and Derek’s father, looking highly uncomfortable with everything. At least Derek wasn’t alone in that.

            It would’ve been a pleasant affair except for the fact that any time he looked up and she wasn’t otherwise engaged in conversation with any of the other Argents, Kate was shooting him lecherous grins across the table. Derek just avoided her eye at all costs, engaging in conversation with Isaac or Cora instead so he had a reason to look the other way.

            He also tried keeping his eyes off Stiles, but it was hard. The boy flitted about the room with two other servers, bringing endless baskets of bread to the table and refilling wine and water glasses. When the main courses came out and Stiles brought Derek his plate he tried his best – and probably failed to give a nonchalant “thank you” with a polite smile. 

            Kate made another remark to something Derek said to one of his siblings – something she’d been doing all evening. He never even graced her with a look or a reply, just continued talking. One particular time, after yet another comment from Kate, Stiles was pouring Derek more wine when he whispered lowly in his ear, “the offer’s still up for me to spit in her soup.” Derek promptly choked on the bite he’d just taken, fighting back a laugh. Cora snorted into her own glass but quirked an eyebrow at Derek as Stiles walked away.

                       It seemed he wasn’t the only one with an eye on Stiles. Derek noticed about halfway through the meal that Chris Argent’s eyes would occasionally follow Stiles. Stiles caught on a few times, catching Argent’s gaze and quickly looking elsewhere, visibly uncomfortable. Derek wondered if Chris had an affinity for young men. It wasn’t unheard of in royalty, though his parents were notorious for their monogamy many kings and queens who were arranged into marriages had other lovers – especially once an heir was produced. Either way, he’d better stay the hell away from Stiles. When dessert was finally brought out, Derek breathed a quiet sigh of relief. At least dinner was almost over.

                “It’s a shame we won’t be able to form an alliance,” Kate said, fake-saccharine after dessert had been served. “You need three Argents to validate it, and to be honest I don’t think I can stand behind putting a king who was weak enough to be overthrown back in power.”

                The tension at the table was palatable, Chris looked furious and like he was about to lash out at Kate. Across the room Stiles stood in the corner, glaring daggers at Kate, Derek could just make out him mouth the word “bitch.” Bitch, indeed.

                “It’s good thing then, that you’ve been estranged,” Allison said coolly, before anyone else could reply. “And even better that I’ll be taking your place, seeing as I’m of age and agree that an alliance, as well as putting the Szymanski family back on their rightful throne, is the best and only decision. A decision we will be making and executing in a meeting separate from this dinner that you will not be a part of. Anyways that’s enough of that, no politics at the dinner table it’s tacky.”

                The table was in awe, a different kind than Kate had put them in, but the conversation slowly picked up again. Kate looked pissed beyond belief, and Derek had to admit it gave him a little bit of joy to see her so shut down. The rest of the dinner went by without a hitch Derek just honestly couldn’t wait until Kate’s trial was over and she was sent away for good.  

 

* * *

 

            Derek was headed back to his chambers weary and exhausted, more mentally than physically, and more than ready to just curl up with Stiles and sleep off the entire dinner when a hand gripped his bicep from behind.

            “Off so soon, handsome?” The familiar voice made Derek’s hackles rise and he spun around on his heels to be faced with a smirking Kate. Who was supposed to be escorted everywhere within the castle by Argent guards.

            “Are you _not_ supposed to be waltzing around the castle on your own volition?” Derek asked, wearily. He really didn’t have the patience or energy for this.

            “I gave them the slip,” she shrugged, as if she weren’t a criminal facing a life sentence. “I wanted the chance to talk to you alone.”

            “I’m not really in the mood to talk, Kate.”

            “Aw, c’mon, don’t you miss me, Derek?”

            “Do I miss you trying to burn my home, family, and kingdom to the ground?” Derek countered, an edge to his voice. He was trying not to let Kate get to him, but she always knew exactly what to say.

            “What about the sex?” She asked, taking a step closer. “I bet you miss that, huh? I heard you barely slept with anyone else after me. But I did notice the way you watched that pretty, freckled serving boy at dinner. Like a wolf watches his prey. Are you lusting after the _help_ Derek? How very cliché of you – ”

            “ _Kate_ ,” came Argent’s hiss from down the hall, and Derek had never been more thankful for the man’s presence, he’d been seconds away from exploding on Kate and that wasn’t good. Argent was flanked by what seemed to be three of the guards who were on Kate-Duty for the remainder of her time in the castle. They needed to do a better job. “You know the rules. You were to go straight to your chambers, not antagonize the royal family. You are here for trial and to pay your respects and apologize. The Hales could’ve slaughtered you all those years ago but they gave you your freedom.”

            “Oh and are _you_ giving me my freedom, Chris? Locking me away for the rest of my life? I’m your sister, how could you do that to your own blood?”

            “Blood isn’t love,” Chris said gravely. “That’s enough from you. The three of you take her to her rooms and do not let her slip from your sights. If she’s caught wandering the halls again, you’ll be sent to Silver Island along with her.”

            The three men hurried to escort Kate away, with quiet but polite “yes your Majesty”s.

            “I apologize for my sister,” Argent said, his eyes following the group as they moved down the hall. The distaste in his stare was obvious. “But I am sure by the end of the week she will be out of all of our hair.”

            Derek just nodded, not quite sure how to respond to any of it.

            “We’ll be meeting with the others and the council tomorrow after dinner. They’ll have all of the next day to go over the information and her trial will start the day after that,” Argent finally said awkwardly after Kate and her guards had disappeared down the hall. “I’ll, uh, let you be off then.”

            Derek made his way up to his rooms quickly, falling face first into his bed and groaning into the pillows.

            He must have dozed off because when he was woken by fingers carding through his hair, the soft light of dusk was no longer making its way through the windows.

            “Hi, sleepy,” Stiles said, amused, his face illuminated only by a few candles he must have lit himself.

            “How long was I out for?” Derek asked groggily.

            “Well, I just got up here barely fifteen minutes ago, so probably a little less than an hour?” Stiles said as he began to work Derek out of the remnants of his clothing. When Derek was down to only his undergarments, Stiles did the same for himself before making Derek move so he could get them both under the covers.

            “You were right, she’s the worst,” Stiles said as he wrapped himself around Derek’s back, kissing the nape of his neck.

            Derek couldn’t help but agree that Kate was the worst. But as they settled into bed, he also realized that it didn’t matter anymore. He had someone far better now.

 

* * *

 

            “She’s guilty,” Laura nearly screeched, bursting into Derek’s chambers. He nearly fell off the couch where he’d been reading. “In a unanimous decision the Hale Council found Katherine Argent of The South has been found guilty not only for her crimes against the North and South but for crimes against the Realm as a whole. That bitch is getting locked away for good!”

            Laura nearly leapt on him and Derek couldn’t help but let out a relieved bout of laughter. He felt so much lighter; he even hugged Laura out of pure happiness. Things were finally going well. He and Stiles were doing better than ever, the few meetings they’d had about making plans for the siege had gone fairly well, and Kate Argent was going to be locked away on an island _forever._

            Later that night when Stiles came in after work, Derek met him at the door to his chambers, pinning the boy to the wall almost immediately.

            “You’re in a good mood,” Stiles grinned, one of his eyebrows quirked.

            “She’s _guilty_ ,” Derek said, smile matching Stiles’ before he began sucking kissing onto that pale neck.

            “I know,” Stiles replied, already a little breathy. “It was all anyone could talk about in the kitchens. I immediately thought of you, though.”

            Derek kissed Stiles then, pressing the length of his body against the younger man’s and chuckling into the next kiss about the reaction that drew out of Stiles. Of course Stiles countered that with grabbing Derek’s ass, grinding both their crotches together.

            “You know what I want?” Derek breathed into Stiles’ mouth.

            “Oh I’m _pretty_ sure I know just what you want, big guy,” Stiles smirked, moving one of his hands around to cup Derek through his trousers.

            “Yeah?” Derek asked, pulling away and pinning Stiles hands back against the wall only to lean back in and whisper into his ear, “I want you to fuck me.”

            “I thought that’s what we were getting to here,” Stiles said before Derek watched the words sink in slowly, Stiles’ expression morphing into something of disbelief. “I – you want me. To fuck you?” He finally choked out. Derek nodded. “ _Oh my god, yes_.”

            They were on the bed in a flash, Stiles in between Derek’s spread legs his hips moving sinuously as he rubbed down onto Derek. They were naked by now, but Stiles was making no moves to make the night move on to the next step.

            “ _Stiles_ ,” Derek gasped desperately. And, okay, it was definitely more of a whine but whatever. He was allowed to be whiney right now.

            “Okay, _okay,_ ” Stiles said, reaching over to where they kept the lubricant and coming back with the small vial, looking unsure. “Have you ever done this before?”

            “Not with someone else, no,” Derek admitted, cheeks flaming. He’d been too unsure before Kate and after her he didn’t trust anyone with this last piece of himself. But then there was Stiles.

            Stiles cleared his throat. “Okay then, I’ll go slow. If I hurt you in the slightest let me know okay? You should probably be on your hands and knees, too. It’s easier that way.”

            “You’re not gonna hurt me I’ll be fine,” Derek grumbled but rolled over nonetheless.

            “Yeah, yeah, either way, I want to make it good.” Derek couldn’t help but blush at that, hiding his face in his pillow.

            It wasn’t too strange at first, Stiles had occasionally slipped a finger or two into Derek before while blowing him, but it was different. Stiles’ fingers were long and diligent and for never having done this to someone else before, he was surprisingly good at it. Derek assumed it was from all of the practice of having done it to himself previously. By the time Stiles was up to three fingers, Derek was pushing back into them nearly helplessly as Stiles whispered sweet nothings into the tattoo between his sweaty shoulder blades.

            “I’m ready,” Derek finally panted, not sure he’d be able to take much more without coming. He heard Stiles slick himself up behind him and then a steady hand was on his hips as the blunt head of Stiles’ cock lined up at his hole.

            Stiles pushed in maddeningly slowly and the stretch wasn’t nearly as bad as Derek had expected, Stiles had taken his prep seriously.

            “You doin’ okay?” Stiles asked sounding wrecked.

            Derek only nodded, pushing back onto Stiles’ dick to get his point across that he was more than okay. Stiles made a punched out noise and settled his hands on top of Derek’s, linking their fingers as he began to roll his hips. It was a sweet, slow torture and he really wanted this to last forever, but he knew it just wasn’t possible. Stiles was being so gentle, touching Derek everywhere so reverently, that it was too much. Between the new sensations and the storm of emotions brewing in his chest, it wasn’t long before he was aching to stroke himself to completion. He wanted something else first.

            “Stiles.”

            “What is it, baby?” Stiles asked from where he was sucking bruises onto the back of Derek’s neck.

            “I’m…I’m gonna come, but I wan’ see your face,” Derek basically slurred, feeling and sounding intoxicated.

            “Yeah, god yeah of course,” Stiles said before pulling out carefully and reaching up the bed for one of the extra pillows.  “Here, prop your hips up on this,” Stiles said, gently helping Derek roll over and adjust onto the pillow.

            And then Stiles’ face was hovering above him with a softly murmured “hi” before he was kissing Derek sweetly and slowly entering him again. It was always far more intense face-to-face, Derek able to see each and every one of Stiles’ reactions. Stiles continued kissing him the best that he could but as soon as Stiles started stroking Derek’s neglected cock, Derek had a very hard time reciprocating, not really being able to do more than moan into Stiles’ mouth. It only took a few more thrusts partnered with strokes before Derek was arching off the bed nearly howling as he came apart. Stiles followed over with him, stilling in Derek and gasping into the hollow of his throat.

            It took a while for Derek to come down, he was still hazy from his orgasm when he felt Stiles leave the bed only to come back and clean both of them off with a rag. Derek was finally coherent enough when Stiles was finished to get them both under the covers and to wrap Stiles up in his arms.

            “I love you,” Derek whispered as he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ sweat damp brow. He hadn’t quite meant for his thoughts to slip out, but he wasn’t necessarily going to take it back either.  

            Stiles looked awed by the confession, but also very happy.

            “And I love you,” Stiles said, so easy and sure, with a gentle peck to Derek’s lips.

            And Derek.

            Derek was so fucked.

 

* * *

 

            “Laura, I’m so fucked,” Derek whined to his sister the next day. He’d asked her to come to his rooms ASAP after breakfast.

            “What’d you do now, baby brother?” Laura asked, sounding bored. She was used to being Derek’s go-to for things like this.

            “I told Stiles I loved him last night,” Derek mumbled falling back into the couch.

            “Jesus, Derek,” Laura said, shocked. “This is good, but also bad? Good because, good for you. I’m happy you’ve finally found someone. Bad though because I mean…you know this can’t last right?” Laura looked genuinely sad. It tore at Derek because he wanted to. For the first time in his life, Derek wished he weren’t of royal blood. His parents were open-minded, but an orphaned kitchen boy from the midlands with no title?

            “But you’re next in line for the crown! And you’re married and you and Isaac will have plenty of heirs, it doesn’t matter who I marry!”

            “Derek,” Laura said softly, the gentleness in her tone a red flag for Derek.      “You know mother and father want you to marry soon. You’re the prince, Derek. You cannot be unwed forever.”

            “Peter’s unwed!” Derek exclaimed.

            “I know but our parents don’t want you to turn into Peter. What’s your plan, Derek? To continue to command the army with Stiles on the side as your lover? You know you can’t marry him due to his birth status and he deserves more than that. He deserves a husband or a wife, someone that can give him all of them. Not just a small part.”

            Derek knew it was true. He did, but he didn’t want to believe that he couldn’t make this work one way or another.

            “Besides, you know how the King of the Midlands is alive?” Laura began cautiously.

            “Yes?” Derek answered in a tone that urged Laura to answer.

            “Mom told me yesterday that there’s talk of his son being alive as well and that the Argents are hiding him somewhere in the south. We can’t get a definite answer from Chris, though mom’s been trying.

            “And what does this have to do with me?”

            “Well mom said, and don’t shoot the messenger here okay, that back in the day there was talk of an alliance between us and the Szymańskis back in the day before everything went to hell. That if the two of you came of age and got on that you’d be married,” She finished the sentence with a wince.

            “ _Married?_ ” Derek exploded, unable to help himself. “I was supposed to be part of a peace treaty, sold off for marriage like cattle, and _no one felt the need to tell me about it?_ ”

            “Derek,” Laura said, rolling her eyes. “This is in no way equal to you being sold like cattle, good lord. It was more of a ‘let’s introduce our children’ sort of thing and if they get along they’ll marry. It’s how I met Isaac. Also, I only just found out the other day, it was talked about nearly ten years ago, that’s not exactly something you try to explain to a fourteen-year-old.”

            “I’m talking to mom about this,” Derek said angrily, ignoring Laura’s protests from behind him.

            He found his mother in the library, which was not a shock to him. She was sitting peacefully in an old armchair reading a book. Derek knew she was trying to relax from all the stress surrounding the castle but Derek was still in such a mood he couldn’t quite feel bad for disrupting her.

            “Why didn’t you tell me I was almost betrothed?”

            Her face was pensive as she closed her book. “I’m assuming you talked to Laura? Truthfully Derek, it really isn’t that big of a deal. Deucalion happened before anything could be solidified and you were both so young, there was no need to bring it up.”

            “But there’s talk that the prince is alive, and hidden somewhere in the south?”

            “Yes, that’s what they’re saying,” Talia sighed.

            “So if he’s alive, you’ll force me to marry him?” Derek asked, petulantly.

            “I would never force you into doing anything you didn’t want to do, and you know that,” Talia said sternly. Derek flushed, he knew he was acting like a child but he couldn’t stop himself. “However, if the rumors are true and that’s something the King is interested in at some point down the road I will at least make you meet the Prince. When we’d discussed it originally it was stated that if you two could be happy together and wanted the marriage then we’d form an alliance. If you didn’t get along or found someone else to marry before a certain amount of time it would be tossed to the side, no harm no foul”

            “It’s just…I know you want me to marry,” Derek sighed.

            “I do. Eventually. When you find the right person,” Talia said. And Derek knew he’d found the right person, that person just didn’t have the right title. As if she knew, Talia continued on. “And I am genuinely sorry, dear but even I can’t change our most ancient laws, even for my own son.”

            Derek was shocked by that. “You know?”

            “Not much goes on in this palace that I do not know about,” Talia said smugly. “I know you’ve been seeing that sweet boy from the kitchens. But there are some things that just cannot be. Enjoy your time with him now, but do not break his heart – or your own for that matter – in the process.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

            It was getting down to the wire. Derek, Peter, Derek’s parents as well as well as other higher ups in the army and the Hales’ war council met with the Argents almost every day, fleshing out a plan. It was fairly simple, truthfully. With the force of the Hale and Argent army combined, Deucalion would barely stand a chance. However, on top of that King Szymański had a loyal force with him in the south, as well as quite a number of men and women within the Midland’s capitol still loyal to him.

            The Argents would attack from the south, the Hales from the north. Szymański would aid in the southern attack as well as the attack from within the city walls. They would most likely wait for Deucalion to meet them on the field, Deucalion would send his forces out of pride, even if he knew they’d get slaughtered. More than anything, they wanted to keep damage to the city and fields surrounding the capitol as well as civilian casualties to an absolute minimum.

            Their main advantage was that Deucalion wouldn’t ever think that the two kingdoms would team up. All the battles they’ve been fighting were to keep Deucalion from taking their respective lands. Especially after the rift Gerard and Kate caused between the families – a rift they are almost certain Deucalion was a part of creating – he would never think that an alliance would be formed. In a way, it was Kate who brought the two families together in the end so Deuc’s plan backfired on him.

            Szymański’s people on the inside would make sure that once Deucalion realized he could not win that he wouldn’t be able to escape the city. His self-preservation was even more extreme than his pride. Deucalion would easily leave his men behind to die if it meant keeping himself safe.

            Overall the meetings had gone well, the Argents were actually very pleasant to work with and far less severe at two in the morning while everyone was working together. Allison was extremely intelligent and wise beyond her years. Derek knew that one day she’d make a great queen. Much like before it was now all down to putting all the talk into action. The Argents left as quietly as possible, and all the meetings were top secret, hush-hush. The first of the Hale army were to leave the next day with Peter. The rest of them would leave with Derek and his parents a week or so after. Laura, Isaac, and Cora would stay behind.

            On the nights that Derek would come in late, exhausted from theses meetings, Stiles would always be waiting up for him without fail. Some nights there would be a bath drawn and Stiles would strip Derek down and let him rest against his chest while he washed the worries of the days off of Derek. Others Stiles would massage Derek until he was boneless and they’d make love, slow and sweet. There were nights when Derek was too tired for anything else Stiles would just lay with him, holding him and carding his fingers through Derek’s hair, telling Derek how much he loved him.

            Derek hadn’t told him about his conversations with Laura and his mother. Things had just gotten so good; he didn’t want to ruin them. But as time passed and he and Stiles grew closer than ever, Derek realized he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to let Stiles go.

 

* * *

 

            That last night though, the night before Peter rode out, Stiles wasn’t there when Derek got back to his rooms. And that was very strange.

            There was a violent rapping on his door and Derek quickly jumped up from his spot on the couch, hoping nothing had happened to Stiles. When he opened his doors he was greeted by the none-too-pleasant sight of Peter…gripping Stiles by the collar.

            “I think this snake has something he needs to confess to you,” Peter hissed, throwing Stiles into the room. Derek was about to drag Peter out of his rooms for speaking to and handling Stiles in such a way when Stiles’ voice cut through his anger.

            “Peter, please, don’t do this!” Stiles begged, hysteria crawling into his voice. “I was going to tell him myself when the time was right, he doesn’t need to find out like this.”

            “Tell me what?” Derek began cautiously.

            “There’s something you need to know,” Peter said darkly. “Something he hasn’t been telling you.”

            “ _Peter_!” Stiles cried, but Peter continued.

            “I heard him talking to Argent that first night they were here, after dinner. It seems Stiles and Chris have been in contact for quite some time now.”

            “Contact?”

            “Derek, don’t listen to him! He’s going to make this sound a lot worse than it is!”

            “While we were out on the road, it seems Argent employed our friend Stiles here to _spy on us_ ,” Peter spat. “I sent one of our spies into his quarters here – which were _surprisingly_ empty – and they found letters. Letters between Chris Argent and Stiles Stilinski while we were out on the road.”

            And no. No no no no no. That couldn’t be true. Not Stiles. Derek felt his stomach drop. It felt as if though all the blood in his veins had run cold.

            “It wasn’t like that!” Stiles screeched. “He didn’t contact me until _after_ I was part of the army. So I didn’t go out with you guys to spy. I wasn’t even _spying._ Chris wanted to know if he could trust you! He wanted to know if the Hales were people who were noble enough to help him put the Szymański family back on the throne. Not _once_ did he ask for battle plans or to know anything else. He just wanted to know if I thought you would ally yourselves with him to accomplish something he’s been trying to do for years!”

            “You were still technically spying! Being in contact with a king from a separate kingdom and giving him information on us is _spying!_ ” Peter barked.

            “Peter, leave,” Derek said coldly. This was not a conversation he wanted Derek to be a part of.

            “Really Derek, I don’t think that’s – ”

            “ _LEAVE_.”

            Peter sighed in frustration, but he made his way to the door, shooting Stiles a dirty look on his way out.

            “Derek, please,” Stiles said, his tone broken. “Please listen to me.”

            “I trusted you Stiles. I let you in. I _loved_ you.”

            “If you love me, then listen to me!” Stiles was getting more and more desperate. “It was barely a few letters, I couldn’t tell you because there are things – other things that I wish I could tell you but I can’t. I never gave Argent any other information. Just that you were a good man, a man who could be trusted. That I thought your family could be trusted as well. That’s all it was, nothing more I swear!”

            “Stiles. Peter was right. You spied on me. You used me. Just like she did. Just like _Kate_ did. I can’t…I can’t trust you any more Stiles. And if I can’t trust you, I can’t love you.”

            “Derek,” Stiles’ voice was broken.

            “Just go.”

            “Fine… just do me a favor and read the letters. Both sides. Maybe then you’ll see. It wasn’t about you, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. All I wanted was the king back on the throne and to go home Derek,” he sounded tired and so, so young when he spoke again. “I just wanted to go home.”

            “The king will be on the throne once more soon enough,” Derek said, voice cold. “And you’ll get to go home. I guess you got what you wanted. So go home, Stiles.”

            “Derek I – ”

            “Go. I don’t want to see you again. Never again.”  

            Derek could see the minute Stiles’ heart shattered, it was written plainly across his face. Derek’s heart shattered, too. Stiles’ eyes were red and Derek has to look away – unable to face it – but he hears a broken sob before the door opens and closes. The only thing that hurts more than that is the ugly sting of betrayal Stiles had left. He turned and stumbled towards his bedroom, mind swimming and stomach churning. As soon as he hit his pillows, he let out an ugly sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um yeah i'm really sorry bout how this ended don't hate me but don't worry cause I am physically not able to write an unhappy ending so yeah. and this next chapter will be out way sooner than it took me to get ch4 out YEAH  
> EVERYTHINGS GONNA BE OK I PROMISEEEE


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter fought me tooth and nail mostly because I really wanted it to be a good one (It's also the longest at about 7k words) and for everything to end well and in general it's always hard for me to end stories I don't know why BUT anyways it's here!  
> thank you to everyone who has followed this work and all your lovely comments, it's what's been keeping me going.
> 
> probably a little splotchy as a I only skimmed through before posting, let me know if you see anything huge but other than that I'll come back and reedit in a few days :)

            After that first night, in which Derek decidedly _did not_ cry himself to sleep, Derek didn’t have the time or energy to be actively heartbroken over Stiles’ betrayal. Everything in the week after was all about tying up the loose ends and preparing for the siege.

            The Argents had left the day after his fallout with Stiles. They had to leave quickly in order so Christopher could sail south and then meet up with his army on the field in three weeks. Peter would leave at the end of this week, Derek at the next. Once everyone was in their positions, they would carry out their plan.

            Peter informed Derek at supper the day the Argents left that Stiles had gone with them. Good. When all of this was over and done, Stiles could go back to the Midlands and get whatever was left of his old life back.

            And Derek didn’t miss him.

            Derek _shouldn’t_ miss him.

            But he did.

            Derek had told Laura what had happened the night Peter dragged Stiles to his room early the morning after. When he refused to go to the send-off breakfast feast, she’d come up looking for him – originally annoyed at his absence but softening when she saw the state he was in. Laura was ever his rock when it came to heartbreak.

            Laura came back to him that night, subdued. She handed him what looked like a small stack of opened envelopes with an unopened letter on top.

            “These are the letters between Argent and Stiles. You should…you should really read them, Derek. Christopher brought them to us this morning and we went through them. There’s nothing incriminating. And from the dates, it seems that it was very early into you being on the road. More than likely before you two had any sort of contact.”

            “Regardless. I do not wish to see the letters. It’s over, Laura. It’s better this way. It was going to have to end either way. I wouldn’t say this is a clean break, but at least if I’m angry with him then it’ll make it a little easier to get it over with.”

            Laura sighed, “at least keep them. Put them in your sidetable or something and read them when you need closure. I know you, Der, and sooner or later you’re going to want the answers to your questions.”

            Derek just grunted and took the stack, pausing when Laura held out the single, unopened letter.

            “What is that?” Derek asked, though he had speculations already.

            “It’s from Stiles, to you. He asked me to give it to you before he – ”

            “I don’t want it.” Derek cut in, tone clipped.

            “Then put it with the rest of them,” Laura huffed, finally reaching her quota of how much of Derek’s childish behavior she’d tolerate before getting snappy. “Listen, he tried to see you in person again, but Peter had guards on him until mom and I cleared the letters. By then it was time for him to leave with the Argents. You should’ve seen his face when he gave it to me, Derek. He looks worse than you. And that is seriously saying something.”

            Derek grunted and snatched the letter from Laura’s hand. He was still too pissed to want to even hear Stiles’ excuses, but he supposed sometime in the distant future, it would be nice to see the apology on paper. Laura looked pleased with herself and promptly left the room, knowing Derek preferred to be alone when he was hurting.

            It was now over a week later, and Derek hadn’t touched the letters. Everything was still too fresh, too raw.

            Derek had been meeting with his mother quite a bit in the past few days. She would ride down to the midlands with him – though she would not fight – and if everything went according to plan, she would stay behind for a few months. If they won both she and Argent would be there to help Szymański rebuild and deal with Deucalion and the mess he’d made of the kingdom. His father would stay behind along with Laura to hold down the fort while they were away. Derek and Laura were expected to join his mother in the last few weeks of her three-month stay in the midlands in order to be a part of the treaty talks between not only the north and the midlands but also the south. Derek knew all of this was hypothetical, but even the hope of all three kingdoms living in harmony was enough to put everyone in good spirits.

            He could feel his mother watching him though, and she knew – of course she knew – but didn’t say anything. Derek was ever grateful for that. The letters were still burning a hole in his mind but he still refused to read them.

 

* * *

 

 

           Derek lasted until the night before he was set to leave before reading the letters. He didn’t want to take them with him out on the road, just in case it was information that needed to remain in palace. But he also knew there was always that very real chance that he wouldn’t come back from this battle and Derek didn’t want to risk the chance of dying and not knowing. Dying without forgiving Stiles, which he was sure he would do as soon as he read them.

            He knows, deep down, that he’s afraid to forgive Stiles because then he can’t hate him anymore. And if he doesn’t hate Stiles for lying, then he’s going to let his other feelings for Stiles rise back up to the surface.

            Derek could handle hating Stiles and never wanting to see him again.

            But he couldn’t handle loving Stiles and not being able to have him. Loving Stiles and never seeing him again.

            With shaky hands, Derek pulled the stack from his sidetable, purposely leaving the sealed letter for last. And Derek read. And the more he read, the more he hated himself for the way he acted. The sicker he felt as the regret boiled up, strong and insistent. The more he wished he could take it all back.

 

* * *

 

            The letters between Stiles and Argent were clear in some aspects but confusing in others. Argent contacted Stiles first, at the very beginning of his time on the road. As Stiles had said, Christopher wanted to know whether the Hales were people the south and the midlands could trust to put Szymański back on the throne. The Hales and Argents did not have the best history and so he wanted to be sure they could be trusted. Argent mentioned that Stiles owed him – for what he did not specify. Derek wonders what exactly Stiles owed Argent for but decided not to dwell on it too much. None of it was written in code, though some things from Argent were vague, as were details about where Stiles was. But the letters were clearly not trying to hide anything. 

            Stiles’ initial reply was short and clearly irritated. He outlined he’d only affirm or deny whether Derek’s family could be trusting, stating that if Argent asked for any other information he’d cease all contact immediately. There would be no talk of the war between the north and the midlands. There weren’t as many letters as Derek had thought though, only a few back and forth – most of them Argent asking for updates and Stiles informing him he needed more time to decide.

           

            Stiles’ last reply was longer than all the others combined. It made Derek’s heart swell even as an undercurrent of shame went through him for not believing Stiles in the first place the other night.

 

_Argent,_

_This is my final letter. I told you in previous letters I would need more time to let you know my thoughts on the Hales. I have not met any of the royal family but those around me speak highly of them. I know you worry about Peter – and I can see why. However, he seems to put his family’s well being before the realm’s and this could work in your favor in that to keep his family safe, he’ll want Deucalion off the throne._

_As for Derek, he is the man you want backing you on a crusade like this. He has honor, strength, and intelligence. He is strong-willed and stern but he treats his troops like family. He cares not only for the people of the north but for those of the other kingdoms as well. He is a good captain and a good man. Personally, I admire him. If his elder sister, Laura, is anything like him, the north will be in good hands for years to come. You can trust Derek. You can trust the Hales. If this was my throne that was up in the air, I would want the Hale’s support._

_I suggest you do something for the Hales to make peace with what almost happened to them because of your sister and father all those years ago. If you want lasting peace, the most important step other than the rightful return of the midland royal family to the throne is to make right by the Hales._

_I hope this is what you needed, because this is all the information you will get from me._

_Please refrain from contacting me again until this is all over._

_With Respect,_

_SS_

           

            All of the letters were dated before he had ever approached Stiles. Stiles had thought this way of him, thought so well of him before they’d even _met_. And he’d stopped all contact with Argent long before they’d ever slept together, so Stiles hadn’t been using him either. Yes, Stiles hadn’t exactly disclosed this information, but Argent had asked in that first letter that Stiles not let anyone know they were in contact in case things fell through.

            He hesitantly picks up the last letter. Stiles’ sealed letter to him. Derek isn’t sure he wants to read what it says. Either Stiles hates him, or Derek is about to hate himself. But he owes it to Stiles to read it. He owes it to himself, too. Realistically, as hard as it is to accept, he’ll probably never see Stiles again. He hopes the letter will give him closure.

 

_Derek,_

_I want to start off by saying how sorry I am that I kept this from you. I never meant to lie. There are things that I couldn’t – still can’t – tell you. Hopefully these things will become clearer after the war ends, but I am not going to make excuses for myself. I should’ve found a way to tell you as soon as the Argents announced their visit, if not before. I’m not sorry because I got caught, I am sorry because I broke your trust. I’m mostly sorry because I hurt you. You deserved so much more from me, and I failed you._

_I understand why you’re mad at me. I don’t fault you for the things you said last night. Whether you only said them in anger, or even if you stand by them still in the future, know that I do not hold your words against you._

_I love you so much, Derek. And I’m so sorry. If you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me, I hope we will see each other again one day. Whether it is as lovers, or as friends – there will always be a place in my life and my heart for you._

_All my love,_

_Stiles_

            Derek hadn’t realized he was crying until he felt the first warm drop trail down his cheek, landing on the edge of the paper. He took a ragged breath, hand shaking as he set the letter back on his sidetable. He felt so stupid. He’d lost Stiles over a misunderstanding. Over something that was actually quite trivial. He’d let his past cloud his judgment, forgetting momentarily that Stiles wasn’t malicious or conniving. He’d forgotten that Stiles wasn’t Kate.

            Logically, they could never be together. Ancient laws in the north prevented the intermarriage of nobles and commoners. And though Derek is certain they’d been broken before, it was not likely the council would approve of a foreign commoner.  

            But what if Derek could somehow find Stiles in the midlands? Could he leave his life of comfort and royalty and his family if it meant spending the rest of his life with Stiles? Derek knew deep down that the answer was yes; it would always be yes for Stiles. But he knew it was a fool’s hope. Derek would never see Stiles again.

 

* * *

 

 

           Derek and his forces rode out the next day, making haste to meet Peter and his men on the field. His mother comes with them, but is to remain behind at the camp during the actual battle. If all goes well, she will meet with Argent and Szymański for peace talks and then stay behind to help Szymański transition back into his role as king and patch things up in the kingdom.

            Deucalion was ready for the Hales. His forces met them on the field with every intention of taking the Hale army down. He was not, however, ready for a triple whammy, with the Argents joining the battle from the south along with Szymański attacking both with the Argents and from inside the city walls. Duke’s army was taken down quickly and efficiently, obviously prepared for the swords and the spears of the Hales but not for the Argent’s archers.

            Deucalion stayed safe behind his palace walls during the battle while his men fell to ruin. The Szymański men chosen to infiltrate the city were given specific orders to only take down any of Deucalion’s guards in the city while keeping its residents safe. As expected, Deucalion tried to flee as soon as the battle started going south, he was captured though and taken into custody – Derek knew Deucalion would not make it out of the week alive. As such, Deucalion was set to be executed by the end of the week. It was a unanimous decision by the leaders of the three kingdoms.

            The army gets drunk that night; much like they did with their last victory, and Derek joins in this time. Cheering and yelling victory with the rest of his men, hugging Boyd and laughing with him, pleasantly warm for the first time in a while. But when he settles into sleep that night with the buzz gone Derek feels empty. He and his family had won, they’d set out what they’d accomplished to do. And it still wasn’t enough.

            Some of the men highest up in the army stayed behind along with his mother to help serve as her guard as well as to keep the peace if need be within the city. She kissed him on the forehead before he left with the rest of the troops with a quiet, but knowing “I’ll see you soon.” Derek didn’t quite have time to dwell on his mother’s enigmatic comments. He assumed she meant he’d be back in some time with Laura to help bring the peace. Still, he would miss her terribly while she was gone.

            Derek rode ahead on the way back with some other men. The journey took about three weeks on foot with an entire army, but only half that on horseback at a comfortable pace. In emergencies, the trip could be made in far less time – so long as the rider and horse had the endurance to do so.

            Which is why Derek was very surprised to receive a letter from his mother a few days after the rest of the army had returned. There had been a parade at their arrival and a feast later that night – the palace doors open to all, but Derek hadn’t attended either. It was probably improper on his part, but he had a hard time concealing his unhappiness and he hated the worried looks his family had been giving him.

            He was in the library sprawled on his favorite couch when Laura burst in announcing Derek had a letter from their mother, Isaac trailing behind her – ever amused at his wife.

            “You have a letter from mom,” Laura said sounding confused, if a little excited.

            “How the hell did she get it here so fast? The army’s barely been home for a day.”

            Laura shrugged, “Must be important. Therefore I expect you to disclose everything in this letter.”

            Derek snatched it from her, rolling his eyes.

 

_My dearest son,_

_Share the first of this news with Laura and Cora as I have already done so with your father. Our suspicions were correct, the crown prince Stanisław Szymański is alive and well. He was being hidden and protected by the Argents and a few of King John Szymański’s closest confidants._

 

            “I _knew_ it!” Laura screeched, but Isaac quicky shushed her. Thinking of his earlier talks with his mother, Derek thought he knew what was coming next.

 

_John Szymański is not the biological heir to the throne. His late wife, Claudia, was the heir so he took her name and in her death John acted as king regent. The throne now technically belongs to Stanisław though he refuses to take it until he feels ready and the entire kingdom has had time to settle down and deal with the tumultuous changes it has endured this past decade. I’m sure you know where I am going with all this talk of Stanisław. There were talks of a union many years ago. I feel we owe it to the family for the two of you to meet at the least. John and I have agreed not to pressure either of you but it would be a great show of solidarity if you were to come. I know how you felt about Stiles my dear, but we also both know it would have ended either way. All I am asking is that you give Stanisław a chance. He is young but he is a good man; bright and witty but also kind and completely dedicated to his kingdom as well as those around him. He’s also quite easy on the eyes so that should help a bit._

            “Oh, ew mom,” Laura fake retched.

            “Laura, _shhhh,_ ” Isaac chided engrossed in the letter.

 

_I told you I would never force you to marry and I stand by that statement. All I ask is that you give the crown prince a chance and you come into this situation with open arms and an open heart. I will expect you in two weeks time at the most. Either way, you and Laura must join me in forging a concrete three-way peace treaty between the kingdoms in two month’s time. But if you are not here in two weeks time to meet the prince then the royal family and I will take that as a polite declination of the offer._

_Darling, I want to see you happy. Please come._

_I love you,_

_Mom_

 

            “So, you’re going, right?” Laura asked after a few moments of silence.

            “Laura,” Derek startled at his father’s voice as the man came around the corner, “I think that’s something he and I will decide on, alright? Father to son.”

            Laura looked peeved to be left out but nodded seriously when she saw how conflicted Derek looked. “If it’s any consolation, I think you should go. You deserve to be happy.” She ruffled his hair affectionately as she took Isaac’s hand and the duo left the library.

            Derek sighed and slumped deeper into the couch, “I don’t know if I’m emotionally stable enough right now to make this decision.”

            “I know, son,” William said, his ever-kind voice soothing. “If you don’t go do you think you’ll regret it five, ten years down the road?”

            Derek thought about that. What if he really never did see Stiles again? He didn’t want to end up alone. It worked well with Peter; he’d always been the lone wolf type, but not Derek. Sure Derek had spent all those years after Kate alone romantically, but Stiles had changed things. He realized sadly that maybe Stiles was the love of his life, but no the person he’d love for the rest of his life. Maybe he’d met Stiles to realize that he could be with someone again, could love someone again. And a young, kind, good looking king-to-be was not a bad offer whatsoever for a spouse. If his mother didn’t approve she would have been explicit about it. If Talia Hale approved, this guy had to be one hell of a man.

            “Yes,” Derek said with conviction, knowing he was speaking the truth.

            “Then go,” his father said simply. “And let the rest fall in to place – or not. Maybe you’ll go meet this prince and realize he’s a great man but that you’re not compatible. Trying is the first step to getting over what you’re going through now.”

            Of course his father knew about the entire Stiles situation too. There weren’t many secrets between his parents. Or his family in general.

            “Maybe you’re going to meet your future husband, maybe not. Either way, I think it’s worth the risk.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Derek was packed that same night, set to head out with Boyd and two others as his companions early the next morning.

            He made his way to the kitchens at dawn to grab himself some breakfast as well as the remaining bags of provisions that were to be taken with them on the journey when he heard two of the kitchen staff gossiping.

            “You remember that sweet young boy from the midlands who used to work here?”

            Derek froze.

            “Of course! The one that left with the Argents? I do miss him.”

            “Well, rumor has it he’s in the midlands now, working for the _kingsguard._ ”

            The other gasped in surprise, “no way, how did he manage that?”

            “Well apparently he’s from the midlands, he fled here all those years ago when he was young. Apparently he was very close with the prince as a child and he did something for the prince, something the prince is indebted in him for so the prince made him a _lord_ , can you believe it? Once upon a time he was a simple folk like us, working around the castle and now he’s a lord!”

            Their voices faded as Derek quickly left the room, heart pounding. That _had_ to be Stiles they were talking about. There was no other explanation. The life debt must’ve been Stiles writing Argent to join forces with the Hales, effectively winning the war and getting Deucalion off the throne. Derek’s mind began to race.

            He spent the rest of the morning on autopilot, mounting his horse and taking off while his guard chattered amiably in the morning mist. If Boyd noticed his quieter than usual demeanor, he didn’t comment on it. 

            A plan was being formulated in Derek’s mind. Stiles was a _lord_ now. He had a title. Derek was angry with himself for almost giving up and giving in and marrying someone else so easily. He’d been fooling himself the past 24 hours. The note from Stiles was worn from having being read and re-read over and over. It was particularly faded where Derek had rubbed his thumb over the “I love you so much” relentlessly – wishing he could hear those words rather than read them.

            He had a different reason for going now. He’d meet the prince, and he’d ask to talk to him alone. He’d confess his love for Stiles to the prince – surely if this man was as kind as everyone said he was and if he were truly Stiles’ friend he would understand. The prince would know where to find Stiles – he’d probably be right in the castle. Derek was buzzing with excitement the closer they got to the midlands capitol – it took them just barely over a week to reach the city walls. Derek grinned as they made their way through the city.

            It was beautiful, truly. Cobbled stone in reddish hues made up the roads and the majority of the buildings. It seems the people had kept the beauty of their city even under an oppressive rule. And everything was so _green._ Though night had fallen Derek had gotten a good view of the lush forests and rolling hills in the last few days of the ride – so different from the grey mountains and sage colored shrubbery of the north. Of course he loved his home but between the lush beauty of the landscape and the pleasantly mild weather, Derek could’ve seen himself loving living here had circumstances been different.

            Once they were within the palace gates, stewards immediately approached them, some taking their bags inside others leading their horses away, presumably to the stables. His mother and the king regent met them at the grand entrance. His mother embaraced him tightly with a whispered, “I’m so glad you came. You won’t regret this.” Derek felt a pang of guilt at that. That’s not why he was here, not any more. He hoped she’d understand.

            Szymański had kind blue eyes and light brown hair that was greying slightly. He grinned at Derek and held out hand to shake.

            “Before there are any formalities here, call me John,” he said, smiling and holding out a hand. Derek shook it, trying to smile back as genuinely as possible. John seemed like a good man. “My son is sleeping, so if you’d like to get some rest you can meet tomorrow morning. I’ll have breakfast sent to you and Talia with come for you round ten? My son is none too excited about the idea of suitors so soon – just as a warning. You two will meet in the privacy of my office just so this doesn’t have to be a public affair.”

            “That all sounds good Your Ma – em, John,” Derek corrected. And it actually really did. If the prince wasn’t excited about the idea of suitors, perhaps he wouldn’t be quite so offended when Derek told him he was hopelessly in love with his friend. 

 

* * *

 

 

            A little after 10 am Derek was outside the king’s study waiting nervously with his mother. He was well rested to his own surprise, but he gave that to the fact that it had been a long journey. Otherwise he’s certain he would’ve tossed and turned all night.

            “You ready?” His mother asked, looking almost as nervous as he was. The guilt was back, but it was nowhere near close to being able to trump his sureness in choosing Stiles.

            “As read as I’ll ever be.”

            When the door opened Derek was momentarily distracted by the large, grandiose study. It seemed Deucalion had spared no expenses in his reign. Derek then focused on the group of people standing across the room. The king, a woman he’d never met before but looked _familiar_ for some reason, Scott….wait, _Scott_? And –

            “ _Stiles_?” Derek was sure the noise that came out of his mouth was an undignified chocking sound barely passing as a name, but he honestly could not believe his eyes. Stiles was the prince? Gods, how had that gone over his head.

            “Uh, hi?” Stiles said sheepishly, cheeks flushing attractively. “I know this is probably a bit of a shock and that’s why we wanted to do it here.”

            “We?” Derek asked weakly. To be honest he was having trouble standing up from the shock of seeing Stiles alone. Added to the fact that apparently Stiles was the _heir to the midlands throne_ Derek was surprised he was even still conscious.

            “Of course as soon as the war was over and I started meeting with John here, the identity of his mysterious son came to light. I thought it was a pretty amazing turn of fate that he was the same boy that had you so enamored for the past few months.”

            Derek’s cheeks heated at that.

            “I think I need to sit down,” he gasped, still reeling and honestly pretty woozy. Stiles immediately moved to pull out a nearby chair, steadying Derek as he helped him ease into it. “I have so many questions.”

            “I’m sure you do,” Stiles said gently squeezing Derek’s arms before hesitantly stepping back. “And I will answer every single one you have.”

            “First, can I still call you Stiles? If not you’re really going to have to teach me how to say your name and let me get used to calling you by it.”      

            “Stiles is a nickname,” Stiles supplied, laughing weakly. “I got tired of people butchering Stanisław as a kid so that’s what I went by to my closest friends and family. And yes you can still call me Stiles,” his voice went fond at the end.

            “And Stilinski is my family name,” John shrugged. “So that’s how his undercover name was born. Not many people know either of those facts and if they do, they’re close, trusted friends or family. Anyone Stiles met and introduced himself as such would only know who he was if they could be trusted.”

            “Okay,” Derek nodded slowly. “Scott, and you must be Melissa?” The woman nodded kindly. “You were who Stiles was staying with in the north?”

            “Melissa and Scott were the ones who snuck Stiles out of the castles and got him to safety during the initial raid. They took him in as their own and protected him for all these years. For that I am forever in their debt. The most I could do was give them titles, Lady Melissa and Lord Scott – as well as give Melissa a spot as a palace healer and Scott a place in my kingsguard. It’s not nearly enough for all they’ve done for me but it’s all I’ve got.”

            “It’s more than enough,” Melissa stated firmly. “Stiles is just as much my son as Scott and he always helped with keeping our household running by earning money so he was no burden at all.”

            To distract himself from thinking about how Stiles earned some of that money towards the end, Derek connected the dots to the conversation he’d heard nearly a week ago about a sweet brunette coming to the midlands and becoming a lord. They were talking about _Scott_. Still, Derek couldn’t be too displeased with the way things turned out.

            “It makes sense, it all does,” Derek affirmed. “But it’s just a lot of shocks in a very small amount of time.”

            “Understandable,” John said, nodding. “Would you like to be left alone and given some time to process?”

            Derek nodded, but then reconsidered. “Actually could uh, could Stiles and I have some time?” Derek looked to Stiles for an answer.

            “Of course,” he whispered.

            “Alright then,” Talia clasped her hands together, grinning. “We’ll leave you two be. And then we’ll all congregate for a private dinner later tonight, correct John?”

            “Yes,” John affirmed. “Alright, we’ll leave you to it.”

            The four others filed out quickly, obviously trying to give Stiles and Derek their space.

            As soon as the door was closed, Derek was up and out of the chair yanking Stiles into a bone-crushing hug. After a second thought though Derek began to pull back, not sure of his welcome in Stiles’ personal space after everything they’d gone through.

            “Don’t you dare stop hugging me,” Stiles grumbled pulling Derek closer and burying his face in Derek’s shoulder. “You’re not allowed to let me go for at least ten minutes. Derek laughed into Stiles’ hair but before he realized it, his laughter turned to tears.

            “Hey, no,” Stiles said pulling back to look at Derek’s face. “This is supposed to be a happy moment, there will be no crying here today.”

            “They’re happy tears,” he promised and they really were. “I’m just so overwhelmed, I never in my wildest dreams imagined this is what would’ve happened when I came here today.”

            “So this is good,” Stiles asked, the earnestness in his voice tugging at Derek’s hearstrings. “We’re good? You’re glad it’s me?”

            “Yes, yes, and _yes_ ,” Derek gasped before Stiles was reeling him forward and into a kiss. They gripped at each other desperately slick mouths moving against one another’s, becoming more and more frantic with every passing second.

            “ _God_ , I missed you,” Stiles whined as Derek latched on to his neck. “But not enough for our round of make-up sex to happen in my father’s study.”

            Derek froze and then pulled back to look at Stiles’ face.

            “Make-up sex,” he breathed. “Shouldn’t we talk first?”

            “We can talk when we’re sated and happy from mutual orgasms,” Stiles said, his irresistible, playful grin lighting his face. And who was Derek to say no to that?

 

* * *

 

 

            “So,” Derek prodded, lying on his side using his arm to prop his head up as he traced his free hand up and down Stiles’ bare back.

            “So _what_?” Stiles mumbled, face down into his pillow. “I wanna nap.”

            “And I,” Derek jabbed Stiles lightly right under his ribs where he knew the other man was ticklish, “want to talk. We need to Stiles. I’m so happy to be here with you. But I also want to ”

            “I am so sorry Derek,” Stiles said, voice pained. He flipped so that he could look up at Derek as he spoke. “I’m hoping you read my letter and that’s why you didn’t punch my lights out as soon as you saw me earlier? But I will do anything for you to forgive me, even if it means groveling and making it up to you –”

            “Stiles, stop,” Derek said shaking his head. “I forgave you weeks ago you idiot. I read the letters, all of them. Your letter I haven’t stopped reading ever since I opened it. Now that we’re here, now that I understand why and how you were in contact with Argent I completely understand. You were putting your kingdom first. That is something I can understand. Besides the letters were all dated before we started sleeping together, so it’s not like you were spying.”

            “Yeah, no I would _never_. Not just on you, but on anyone,” and Stiles sounds so, so _relieved_.

            “I know,” Derek couldn’t help but grin down at him. “But, I have some things _I_ need to apologize for.”

            “No, you don’t – ”

            “Yes I do,” Derek interrupted firmly. “I am sorry for the way I treated you when Peter brought you to me. I jumped to the worst of conclusions without even giving you time to talk. I promise in the future – if you’ll still have me – to work on that. To trust you and to let you explain any sort of miscommunication or situation without jumping to conclusions. It might take some time, but I’m serious on working on it.”

            “In the future, huh? You still want to be with lil’ ole Stiles?”

            “If I’m going to be honest with you, full disclosure, I was originally going to come here just for my mom and as the first step to letting myself move on from you,” the words were hard to get out. Derek gulped and continued, “but I heard some servants gossiping, saying the kid who used to work in the castle was off in the midlands and a lord now. I realize now they were talking about Scott.”

            “And?” Stiles prompted

            “And my original plan was to come here, confess to the prince that I was in love with his friend, hoping that he’d tell me where you are so I could find you and drag you back to the north with me so we could marry. I thought to myself ‘surely I’ll be allowed to marry a lord.’”

            “You’re still in love with me?”

            “Nothing’s changed,” Derek affirmed amused that that’s what stuck out to Stiles in that sentence. 

            “Good. If I’m being honest with you, when my dad told me a possible suitor was showing up today without specifying who it was, I was furious,” Stiles admitted. “I wasn’t…I wasn’t ready. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready. But my father let me know early this morning who exactly my suitor was. He and your mom _know,_  by the way, which is slightly embarrassing. I mean not the full story, but they knew we were in love. Anyways, I had about the same reaction you did.”

            “Okay, I wasn’t _that_ bad.”

            “Der, you went so pale I thought we’d have to treat you for shock or something. You made your ‘confused bunny’ face it was adorable.”

            Derek sputtered. “ _Confused bunny face_? What the hell is that?”

            “The face you make when you’re really confused,” Stiles grinned. “It makes such a big surly man look so cute. It’s one of the reasons why I love you.”

            “Still? Even after all those awful things I said?”

            “Nothing’s changed,” Stiles said, repeating Derek’s earlier statement.

            Derek couldn’t help it, he let out a happy, relieved laughed. This was unbelievable. Derek never thought that this was the way that things would play out, not that he was complaining but still. Even his wildest dreams of best-case scenarios did not play out this well.

            “My father and I, we’ve got a lot of work to do,” Stiles shifted once more, moving to mimic Derek’s pose so they were on their sides, facing each other. “There are peace treaties between all three kingdoms in the works. We’re working on rebuilding our economy as well as rebuilding the lives of the people all over kingdom. Their morale has been low for a long time. My father and I returning has helped but part of me knows there is still much work to do in lifting the people’s spirits.”

            Derek understood what he was saying. That now probably wasn’t the time for the two of them. And he was okay with that, he really was. He understood Stiles’ duty to his kingdom. It didn’t matter, as long as they were together in the end, Derek would wait as long as he had to for Stiles. Before he could voice this though, Stiles continued.

            “There's a lot we have to work out. A lot that needs to be fixed, changed, healed. But I think a royal engagement of the former lost prince will lift some spirit, don’t you?”

            Derek reeled, was Stiles asking what he thought he was asking? “Are you asking me…I are you –”

            “Derek William Hale, Prince of the North, will you marry me?”

            “ _Yes,_ ” Derek whispered, but it came out sounding a hell of a lot more like _duh._ He rolled them, pinning Stiles to the bed and kissing him everywhere murmuring a “yes” into Stiles’ soft skin with every press of his lips. When their mouths finally met, neither of them could do much actual kissing, both too busy grinning.

            “Don’t you think it’s funny?” Stiles said, pulling back and looking up at Derek. “How we were set to be betrothed before Deucalion ruined everything. And we met either way. It’s like the universe _really_ wanted us to be together.”

            Derek laughed incredulously at that, it was a good point.

            “Maybe we’re soulmates,” he whispered, his more practical side shaking its head at his romantic ideals

            “Maybe? Definitely soulmates,” Stiles smirked before pulling Derek back in for another kiss.

 

            “One thing though,” Derek said as an afterthought after what seemed like ages of kissing.

            “Yeah, what is that?”

            “You really need to teach me how to pronounce your first name before we stand up there and say our vows.”

            Stiles let out an all-encompassing laugh that bounded off his bedroom walls. Derek silently promised he’d do whatever it took to coax that laugh out of Stiles as many times as he could for the rest of their lives. 

 

* * *

 

 

            To everyone’s surprise, including their own, they made it to dinner in time.

            They’d spent all day wrapped in each others’ arms and Stiles had eventually asked for a bath to be drawn around late afternoon. Derek wasn’t sure whose face was redder, the poor servant girl who came to draw the bath or Derek’s. Stiles just laughed at him fondly, reassuring Derek that everyone knew what they’d been doing shut up in Stiles’ chambers all day. As if _that_ was to make Derek feel better.

            They entered the small, private dining room fresh and well-rested. Only John, Talia, and the McCalls were present but they all gave the duo knowing smirks as they walked hand in hand into dinner and took the remaining two seats.

            “So nice of you boys to join us,” Talia said pleasantly. “We hope you enjoyed your day together.”

            “ _Mom,_ ” Derek groaned, mortified. The entire table laughed, including Stiles, but their faces were happy. Approving.

            Dinner was served soon after and everyone fell into conversation easily. It was pleasant, Derek found himself oddly relaxed in the presence of John and the McCalls and enjoying their company and conversation. He knew it would be difficult to be away from his family, but Derek also could see how completely happy and at home he could be here.

            As the dinner plates were taken away and the table was prepped for desert, Derek felt Stiles reach for his hand under the table. He looked over at Stiles who was giving him an open, inquiring look. Derek knew exactly what he was asking so he nodded, smiling softly.

            Stiles gripped his hand a little harder and cleared his throat. The small group all looked at him. Derek gave Stiles’ gentle squeeze in reassurance.

            “So, uh dad, and Queen Hale,” Stiles steeled himself before continuing. “About that betrothal?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one was surprised by that ending but OH WELL I LIVE FOR HAPPY PREDICTABLE ENDINGS IN MY FANFICS  
> all of you calling Stiles as the prince, you were right ;)  
> one of you seriously called it in like chapter one kudos to you
> 
> also let me know if anyone would be interested in a short (aka a couple thousand words) one shot/epilogue? I was thinking of doing one but didn't want to delay the end of the story any longer
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I will post updates on my [teen wolf/writing tumblr](http://alphamcbootycall.tumblr.com/), but if you wanna talk or get to know me come say hi on my [personal tumblr](http://rifthold.tumblr.com)! I don't know when exactly this will be updated but hopefully I'll set a schedule for myself


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